You ever go to exercise and think, "What the hell am I doing?" I started working out seriously about seven years ago, after I was assaulted in Gulf Coast Town Center. I had the idea that I wasn't going to be a victim again. I was angry. After a while, I realized the chances of something like that happening again were pretty slim. The anger faded and I started missing the gym, mixing into almost a cocktail of laziness and frustration. For years, I fluctuated between serious training and barely keeping in shape. I decided I had to make a commitment to myself, and possibly Herakles, god of strength. I emerged from the winter (of 2012) with a newfound focus. Still, I found myself thinking, "Why do I use my leisure time to repeatedly lift heavy objects?"
You know what? I didn't have an answer. I was working out with no purpose. The best I could muster was, "I've got to be better." That of course led to more questions, "For what reason?" and "What am I trying to achieve?" What do you do with fitness? Buy a rocket car and fight crime? My physical journey became a philosophical one. So, I started asking people. Conversations with my girlfriend and sessions with a counselor helped to integrate physical activity into my life. It was no longer something I did, but a part of who I am. My vague goals of "run farther" and "lift more" became more attuned to my strengths and weaknesses (or rather, my jack-of-all-trades lack of either). I stayed motivated to run by scheduling fun run races. I lifted by focusing on percentage of body weight.
I workout to stay sharp, stay positive, and hopefully, inspire others to do the same. These same goals won't motivate everybody. All workouts, marathons, sprints, and even weightlifting, are about resolve, endurance, and willpower. However, don't worry if you're slipping or haven't even started, yet. You are the one in control. Make new goals, reach them, beat them, be greater.
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