It still hurts just as much…

Parallels between writing and working out

Photo by Yamon Figurs on Unsplash

Disclaimer: Those aren’t my calves. Not even 1% of them.

I go to the gym everyday and I try and write or sketch every day. A month at the gym and almost 190 posts on Medium later,

it still hurts just as much

Writing or working out hasn’t become easier, I haven’t gotten used to it and no it doesn’t feel effortless, ever. Every day the white page haunts me, just as much as the treadmill taunts me. (please excuse bad wordplay) I’ve started to believe that for every one of us there is a gym cycle with our name on it. Sooner or later, you will end up at the handlebars of one. The only thing that changes is whether it is by your own choice or not. I got into working out not by choice, but by force. The people who know me are shocked every time, they find out that I gym now. But what got me there was the same reason that gets me writing and sketching everyday.

A profound sense of self loathing permeates my being if I don’t. A desolate sense of utter uselessness engulfs me.

These two emotions keep me returning to the mat and to the writing table. There is work inside all of us that needs to brought out and only a sense of profound duty to ourselves, can make that happen. Does it ever get easier?
NO. Will it ever stop hurting? I sure it won’t. But that’s a good thing, that means you’re not slacking off or letting yourself go. A day at the gym when it doesn’t hurt means you haven’t done enough. A day at the writing table where my hands don’t quiver with fear and my heart doesn’t beat faster, terrified at the thought of not having the words I need, to do justice to what’s in my head, I know I haven’t done well.

I believe we all feel inadequate and lost, we’re all trying to find out who we are. A lot of us hate where we are in life. A lot of us feel stifled by the slow, petty rate of growth we eke out day by day. We’re scared shitless of the novel that progresses ever so slightly, the needle on the weighing scale that refuses to move. While all that seems to have changed is the number of cold, sweat baths we take during the day. It’s just that some of us have managed to channel that fear in ensuring we show up, at the gym or at the table, we show up and we put in the work.

All you have to do is take that self loathing and tie it in to a personal goal.

Now not a day goes by, when my mind doesn’t make me feel like shit unless I do both of these. I’m not saying it’s a great way to do things. If you can get through the day feeling happy about yourself never let that feeling go. But if you can’t, then channel it, into something that’ll help you get you what you want.

Writing like working out never stops hurting, it hurts just as much as the day before that and the day you first started doing it. But then maybe that’s the charm of it.

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Thank you for reading.

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