Another day. There’s another battle going on in my mind again. It’s the asking. It’s all the questions. Can you really do all that you’re telling yourself to do right now. Is this not too much. I hate those questions. I had to spend the day shutting them all down. Meeting them each head on and showing that question it’s answer through my action. By the act of not stopping. Of going forward even though it hurts. It learns its place in my mind.
The questions always come. They creep in when I’m tired, when the weight of the day presses against my body, when my mind searches for an escape. They whisper doubt, coaxing me into hesitation. But I’ve learned not to answer them with words—only with motion. The only response they deserve is the sound of my steps moving forward, the rhythm of my breath as I push through another rep, the weight of exhaustion turning into fuel.
It would be easy to sit with those thoughts, to entertain them, to let them plant seeds of hesitation in my mind. But I know what happens when you let doubt linger—it grows. It festers. It takes root until it becomes a part of you. That can’t happen. Not here. Not now. So I act. I act until the doubt no longer has a voice. I move until my mind can no longer question whether I can do it—because I already am.
The battle is never just about the work itself. It’s about the moment when the mind wants to surrender, when it searches for an excuse to slow down, to justify an easier path. But I refuse to give it one. There’s only one way forward, and it’s through. No matter how much it hurts, no matter how much it asks me to stop, I remind myself—I already know the answer. I win this fight by never letting it start.
