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…
“Wow do I feel damn good today. Yea I went through a lot and it changed me, it broke me, and now made me stronger… and yes it will continue. I will break again, but I will rise again. It is a cycle that only ends if you give up. You can’t lose if you get up. Doesn’t matter how long you stayed down. Just get up and do it today. Just for today, do it right. Let tomorrow’s worries wait for you tomorrow, that’s the only time you can do anything about them anyway.”
“Wow, do I feel damn good today.” It’s not just a fleeting emotion; it’s a profound recognition of the journey I’ve endured, marked by hardship, transformation, and ultimately, strength. As I stand on the brink of another training session, I can’t help but reflect on the cyclical nature of growth and resilience that defines my existence. Each session is not just a routine; it’s a recommitment to a philosophy of persistence.
Life, much like training, is punctuated by cycles of breaking and healing, falling and rising. It’s an endless oscillation that tests our fortitude and shapes our character. “I went through a lot and it changed me, it broke me, and now made me stronger… and yes it will continue.” These words aren’t just a testament to past trials but an acknowledgment of the inevitability of future challenges. The essence of this experience is not found in the breaking itself, but in the rising that follows. Every break is a chance to rebuild, not back to what was, but stronger than before.
“I will break again, but I will rise again.” This isn’t a prediction; it’s a declaration of resilience. The acknowledgment that the cycle will continue is crucial, not as a surrender to fate but as an embrace of the rhythmic nature of growth. Each fall brings with it the seeds of a potential rise, a phoenix-like regeneration that is born from the ashes of our past selves.
This perspective shifts the paradigm from a fear of breaking to an embrace of it as a precursor to growth. “You can’t lose if you get up. Doesn’t matter how long you stayed down.” The measure of victory is not in never falling, but in the rising every time we fall. It’s a philosophy deeply rooted in the belief that endurance and perseverance are the most authentic forms of victory. Our scars are not just reminders of our defeats but are the medals of our resilience, each one narrating a story of a battle fought and survived.
“Just get up and do it today. Just for today, do it right. Let tomorrow’s worries wait for you tomorrow, that’s the only time you can do anything about them anyway.” Here lies the crux of this philosophy—living in the present. Each day offers a battlefield, and our only duty is to show up, to engage with it fully, unburdened by the specters of past failures or the shadows of future worries. This mindful engagement with the present is what fortifies our spirit against the entropy of despair.
As I lace up my sneakers and step into the familiar space of my training, it’s clear that these daily sessions are more than just physical exercise. They are a daily practice of a philosophical doctrine that champions resilience, encourages a relentless spirit, and preaches the sanctity of the present moment. In this space, I am both student and teacher, learning and teaching the art of resilience, one rep at a time.
