This is a thought I had before entering the gym to train for the day. It is a practice I do each day before I train to be able to look back and see how my mentality morphs and changes through the monotony of never ending training…
“Decisions and actions, that’s the game we’re in now. There is little room for contemplation, and the room there is for thinking should be used on thinking about moves to make in the future. Right now I don’t really think that though, right now I just want to train. I will use the perks of knowing who I am to use this training session as a means of a conversation with myself. While I push through things I don’t want to do, to show myself what comes with the continuous renewal of the never ending training. There is nothing I can’t do if I can do this.”
In the fast-paced world we navigate, the ability to make quick decisions and act decisively is more than just a skill—it’s a necessity. The luxury of prolonged contemplation often feels like a relic of a slower time. Instead, the moments we allocate for thinking are best directed toward strategizing future moves. However, despite this relentless focus on action, I find myself drawn to a different kind of endeavor: training.
Training, in this context, is not merely a physical activity; it is an introspective dialogue, a method through which I converse with my inner self. This dialogue is crucial—it’s where I learn the most about who I am and what I’m capable of. Each session is more than just exercise; it’s a ritual where I push my limits, not only physically but mentally and emotionally.
Why do I train? It’s not just about staying fit or preparing for the next challenge. It’s about proving to myself that there are no limits to what I can achieve. The obstacles I face during training—those moments when every fiber of my being screams for rest—are not barriers, but opportunities. Opportunities to teach myself the critical lesson of resilience, to remind myself that discomfort and challenge bring growth and transformation.
This continuous renewal through never-ending training is a testament to the belief that there is nothing I can’t do. It embodies the philosophy that our potential is not fixed but is something we can expand through effort and perseverance. It’s about showing up, day after day, and doing the work even when it’s the last thing I want to do. This dedication is a conversation with my future self, a promise that the pain of today is the strength of tomorrow.
In a world that values speed and efficiency, this practice of training—this practice of patience and persistence—might seem counterintuitive. Yet, it is precisely this contradiction that holds the power. Each drop of sweat, each moment of fatigue, is a building block for a more resilient and capable self. Through this process, I learn not only about my physical limits but also about my mental fortitude and emotional resilience.
