I wake up again and here I am once again, I write again.
Not just that but I train again as well.
A new day to me just means that the count is back at 0.
Another 200 push ups, another 100 pull ups, another jump rope session awaits me followed by another 100 squats to be done. I have to fill out another page on this typewriter, another on my journal, another on my small journal, another entry on my phones notes app, and another blog to be posted.
The days are the same…
I’m meant to be working but since work has been slow as of late, I have a vacant apartment unit here that I designated as my office and gym. In here I do all my push ups, currently at 175 out of the 200 for the day. It is 2pm, I get off of work at 5pm.
In this time I’ve gone to the gym on my lunch and finished 50 pull ups and my 10 minute jump rope session. I got to work 30 min early and got through 50 pull ups at the gym on site.
Åll that’s left for me now is the last 25 push ups that I will get done after I finish this page here.
I plan on opening up my ipad in an hour and publishing another blog post.
For the last few months now I have gotten 1 posted a day. It has given me a sense of satisfaction that I look to retain.
This brings me back to the title.
Is it a new day or the same day?
I mean everything I wrote down is nothing new to me. For the past months now this has been my routine.
The thing that has changed however is how I look at the things that I’m required to do. That I require myself to do.
Some days I wake to find I have no motivation to get anything done. So I delay and delay them as much as I can.
I open up a few time slots in the day where I crank out as much as I can then put it off again.
Today has not been one of those days.
Today I had the energy to keep moving forward. With each task done I gained more energy, more of a drive to knock out another. I find the time to rest where I can but I limit any wasted minutes.
On days like today, the nightime is not so bad. It’s actually pretty great. I get to go to bed with a strong sense of satisfaction and pride for how I lived my day.
That feeling I enjoy.
That feeling I want again.
Since the voice of reason has left my ears and told me to go and fuck myself, I haev been much more productive in my days. I see now that it wasn’t that hard as I made it out to be.
The biggest pain of it really was in the contemplation about how awful it will feel to do it again.
Instead I just do another 25. I step away and time passes, I do another 25. I scrape away little by little at the demands for the day until I’m close enough to the end to attack it for the win. Those last few are fun, because I know that I’m close to doing it again.
