The Strength in Weakness

I woke up two days ago with a thick, heavy feeling in my throat and a nasty cough. If I was still the old Cassandra Lotus, I would lay in bed all day and watch The Nanny and sleep it off. But of course, that Cassandra was an unemployed student back then.

Seeing as I have three sick days and no intentions of using those days on a measly little cough, I put on my big girl pants (and my belt, since I've lost three pounds this month) and got to steppin'. (Okay, I worked from home--but I still billed a solid eight hours of work today.)

It takes the most strength of all each week for me to work
in the Inland Empire away from my home, this beach.

You know how sometimes white light surrounds you when you have to get something done? Not that frustrated anxiety you get when things aren't going your way for something you want to happen--I'm saying the shit has to get done today and you know that delaying getting started or complaining about it will literally do nothing so your brain shuts down those thought processes? Like I said, white light surrounds you. Anyway, today was one of those days. There were deadlines to hit, designers waiting on my markups, editors waiting on my press release, web editors waiting to publish my content. I took an extra sip of DayQuil and hit this day pretty hard.

And now, here I am. Sitting in bed with some more time to spare (I think it's the DayQuil talking). I wish I had this energy about two hours ago, before I convinced myself that I was too congested to go to fitness bootcamp. It was arm day today--and it's my favorite because I can actually see results. My yogi arms are slowly coming back, after their 2-1/2 year vacation. But losing those muscles and pushing myself through the pain to gain them back is probably one of the most self-aware experiences I've ever had.

Sometimes it takes feeling weak to discover how truly strong you are. I feel like quitting every moment I'm at bootcamp, mainly because I know I'm not at the level I used to be, and getting on that level again feels impossible. But, for some reason, I haven't quit yet. Looking back on the ten weeks since I started getting back into shape again, I really haven't quit. Last week I went up a tire size at bootcamp. It was impossible to lift after the first couple of reps, so on my next set I switched back to my smaller tire. Lifting it was nothing--it was too easy. That lighter tire was something that used to make my arms fatigued, and last week I was practically throwing it in the air. I got nothing out of the second set. Feeling weak with the heavier tire was a cheesy metaphor hand-delivered from the Universe telling me that I can feel strong but remain weak, or I can feel weak but grow stronger. Having an easy job (unlike the job I currently have, as I discussed last week) would mean my brain turning to mush, like my muscles. Everyday in the office is a steep rock climb for my brain, leaving it sore but stronger (wiser).

Now, I don't think it's possible for this post to get any cheesier, so I will leave you contemplating the idea that getting stronger makes you feel weak at first. But pretty soon, you'll be lifting heavier tires than you ever thought possible.

That's it, I'm out.
Namaste.