Some strained version of yourself turns up to go to battle. Already bruised and battered from the preparation for the conflict of race day.
These flesh wounds inflicted, day in and day out, in this phony training war. Tattered and torn, our willingness dragging behind us in slender threads.
So you are dreaming of success with a broken heart. The waking up to that is the hardest part.
You’re rolling out of bed to train on your knees.
The best of you is out there on the killing fields, the dead bodies of a thousand athletes strewn all around.
Yea, you’re making a war of yourself.
On that day when the test comes, you need to draw on more of yourself, all the willingness you left in reserve will be put to the test.
Yea. I know you think it’s the battle you survived that provides you the amo to win this war.
No wars are won by already defeated grunts. You can’t dig in without a spade and the desire to do so.
It’s going to ask for your willingness to dig in like your fucking life depends on it.
It will all come down to that moment when your backbone meets the challenge. In that moment you will draw from all the positive reinforcement you gave yourself in that phony war we call training.
Here’s the punchline, friends:
It’s not the self-punishment that brings you the inner resilience to dig in when shit gets really hard.
It’s the nurture!
How do you support yourself in this moment of challenge? What do you tell yourself? What do you leave in reserve?
The greatest of warriors know that the nature of war requires the balancing force of nurture in the preparation.
It’s nurture, not torture.
Don’t leave the best of yourself in training.
Build the relationship you have with yourself, be discerning enough to know when to push forward and learn when to pull back.
Always have your own back, never speak against yourself, even in a joke.
This is the self-integrity of a true champion and when the war comes you’ll be ready.
Gilesy..