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Keep your eye on the prize, y'all

Keep your eye on the prize, y’all

There are times I’m doing my treadmill aerobic dance (flailing about in a jittery wild ass KAPOWIE not caring if I look like an idiot) and my heart rate climbs, I’m sweating, my legs beg me to stop, my breath is one big pant pant pant–but I don’t stop, not yet. I keep going until  the song is over–even the seven minute long techno music (previous post) that tries to kick my ass to Kingdom Come. I allow a little bit of a “cool down” to let my heart rate slow a bit, and then I HIT THAT THANG again–*sound of whip cracking across my ass. Oh it hurts soooo goooood.*

Is it easy? Hells-no. And that’s what makes it worthwhile. That’s what makes it heart-pumping YEEHAW! That’s what makes me feel on top of the world!

007

Goal accomplished, fit in the jeans, and found me some f**k me pumps WHUPOW!

Who the hell said things were supposed to be easy? Doing what’s difficult and kick-ass is what brings about results. Do you want results? What are they? Be specific:

I want to fit into a pair of skinny jeans and f**k me pumps and to be able to wear them with a fitted shirt without “muffin top” or belly bulge–and why couldn’t I do that in my fifties? What was stopping me from my goal? Not a goddamn thing but my own self thinking “But I’m 55!” So what? (of course, as I always tell you–you must see your doctor in case there are physical limitations); I want to feel better and what does “feel better” mean?– to be able to hike the mountains, be stronger well into my 60s 70s 80s and beyond, to have good blood pressure and pulse, for the doctor to say “You are in great shape, don’t come back until next year;” I want sexual power; I want to look good in my clothes, yes, but also for them to feel good on my body; I need help with stress (lawdy yes); etc etc etc.

ass kickDon’t just say, “I want to be in shape/be healthy.” What does that mean? I dunno. What does  “in shape/be healthy” mean for you? The more specific you are with your goals, the more you will keep your eye on that “prize.” And the fewer times you can use excuses like, “I don’t wanna.” Yeah well, Get your ass to work anyway! Why? Cause I said so that’s why! What in hell are you waiting for? Miracles? Someone to take you by the hand and pull you there kicking and screaming? Ain’t you worth it? I know I am. So, in a month, six months, a year from now, will you be making the same goddamn excuses then as you are now? Uh huh. Check back in a month, six months, a year, and let’s see what you did with your time. Huhn.

I believe in you; so why don’t you believe in yourself?

Who cares if anyone is watching? Have fun.

Who cares if anyone is watching? Have fun.

I recognize that not everyone is going to love working out like I do–I am one of those people who actually looks forward to it and if I miss, I am not worth a crap.  But how do you know you won’t be like me? How do you know you won’t begin to enjoy. Show up. Do the work. Find your joy.

I feel this way about the writing, too. Until I don’t. Lawd. Then I look for the magic again until I find it.

Do love what you do? Do you love yourself?

Do you love what you do? Do you love yourself? Why not? Ask the hard questions and then find the answers.

Writers: this goes out to you, too. Sometimes this job is hard. Sometimes it kicks our ass but good. Are you gonna give up? Are you gonna stop when things are a little hard? Get your kickass on and stop whining and crying and carrying on about how difficult this business is. Shit, I know that–I’ve done my own crying and whining, until I decided I was sick of myself crying and whining. Instead, I went back to work. That’s what we do–we show up; we work hard; we don’t give up.

We aren’t always going to have exactly what we want from this business–but we can kick ass trying, y’all! We can do the best goddamn job we can and let the rest work itself out how it will. We can be proud of what we’ve accomplished–it isn’t all about what you may think it’s about. Maybe, just maybe, it really is all about the work, the thing that makes you show up every day, the thing that gives you joy, and all the rest is just icing on an already iced cake.

loitering through life ain't allowed, all y'allses

loitering through life ain’t allowed, all y’allses

When things are difficult, push on. You’ll learn when you truly have reached your “end,” where you know you can’t do or give any more than you are–and then maybe, just maybe, you can push it a little farther/further.

Work-out Music of the day: Benny Benassi – Satisfaction

Comments on: "Work-out Writer: Are you giving up and giving in?" (3)

  1. karenselliott said:

    I’m not giving in – it took me 33 years to lose the baby fat (my son is 33), but I’m finally at 5 lbs. over what I was when I became pregnant. It’s never too late! And every time I read one of these work out blogs, I get up and do push-ups or dips or get down on the floor and stretch a lot. Thanks for the reminder! And it also helps to remind me that I can and will write, I can and will publish!

  2. Love how this post puts an extra KICK in kick-ass! I have never been sorry for pushing my buns that extra mile to reach my ideal of personal perfection (aka the land of feel good, look good, am good!). Have I made the goal yet? Nah. But then I think I finally figured out that the work toward the prize is almost like hanging around in the winners circle. It never ceases to feel amazing to be in fighting shape–strong, motivated, eye of the tiger, take no prisoners!

    And those skinnies and f*** me pumps? Amazing!

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