Not Feeling Like it, Has Nothing To Do With it
Ironically, running and writing are two of my favorite things to do and yet two of the hardest to get myself up and actually do. However, they’re not optional. Doing both on nearly a daily basis is what I require from myself, no matter what.
I give myself one day of rest from running a week but if I’m being honest I still haven’t quite made peace with it yet. While it usually works out because I end up coinciding my rest day with a day I’m either really sore, didn’t sleep well or a day when it’s either raining or otherwise miserable out — there’s still a voice inside that tells me I should be running on those days as well. In those moments my inner dialogue looks a little something like this.
“Afraid of a little rain or snow are we? Awww, do your ankles hurt? Man up”
I’m really mean to myself sometimes. Relentlessly unforgiving because I have to be. Otherwise, I’ll once again become the person who does the things they should be doing, exclusively when they feel like it. And rarely does anyone ever feel like doing anything even remotely difficult. Not even the ones we enjoy once we force ourselves to do them, regardless. It’s either be relentlessly disciplined or give in to resistance, the choice is always ours. I choose action.
Think about it, we don’t even let our young get away with this behavior. Kids are constantly telling their parents how they don’t want to do things and good parents everywhere respond by telling them they don’t care and to get it done. They’re not saying it to be mean, they just know doing so is in the kid’s best interest, despite how the child may feel in that moment. So if we do this for our children, why should we treat ourselves any differently? To borrow an idea from Psychology Professor and author Jordan Peterson, treat yourself like you would a child you love and care for. Want for yourself what you’d want for your kids. Be just as disciplined in your approach to caring for yourself.
While I’ll allow myself one day a week to not publish, I still write that day. I just found that requiring myself to publish something seven days a week wasn’t beneficial and started to do more harm than good. In short, it began to make me an insane person and eventually came at the cost of the quality of my work. Publishing something six days a week is hard enough in itself. Even God rested on the seventh day, not that I’m drawing comparisons between myself and the divine but you get my point.
I felt the need to write this because the last two days I’ve noticed I was subtly and subconsciously trying to find way to shirk my work and find a legit justification for doing so but there simply isn’t one today. I’ve used them all up over time, I’m on to my own tricks. All that’s left now is action, regardless of how I feel about it.