Still haven’t stopped yet.
I got a lot more to do.
I got a lot more than that done though.
So what’s left to do is routine.
It’s not so much now anymore.
It’s not what it was in the morning.
Now I just get to ride this wave.
I got the momentum now.
Can’t afford to slow down.
If I do, I’ll surely feel it all.
If I just keep going, then maybe I won’t.
Maybe I won’t feel all this strain.
I know that the more I keep going,
the less I have to do later.
It’s so simple yet so difficult to maintain.
You only feel yourself in the now.
This is when we’re most present.
This is your gift to yourself; don’t be selfish now.
Momentum is a fragile thing. It’s earned, built piece by piece, and yet it can vanish in an instant. Every step forward makes the next one just a little easier, but stopping? Stopping means you start from scratch. That’s why I keep going. That’s why I don’t let up when I feel the weight pressing down.
It’s not that I don’t feel the strain. It’s that I trust in the process more than I trust the discomfort. The pain is temporary, but what I’m building? That stays. Each rep, each step, each movement—it’s laying another brick in the foundation of who I’m becoming.
I remind myself of this when the temptation to pause creeps in. When the thought of “just rest for a moment” whispers in my ear. I’ve seen what happens when I listen to that voice. I’ve felt the regret of having to rebuild momentum that I carelessly let slip.
So today, I choose differently. I keep my eyes on the path ahead, not the pain in my legs or the heaviness in my chest. Today, I let the wave carry me forward, trusting that if I just keep moving, I’ll arrive exactly where I need to be.
Because this isn’t just about finishing what I started. It’s about proving to myself, again and again, that I am the kind of person who doesn’t stop until the work is done.
