Let’s be honest inspiration is like doing a line of blow. When it hits you, your neurons are heightened, you feel an impulse of energy. Something great, and you feel like you could defeat fucking King-Kong. Just like coke, the feeling is fleeting. At least an eight ball will last you a night, yet moments of inspiration only exist in the immediate milliseconds it hits you.
Those brief encounters with the brains own source of Columbian pure powder, become a tangible thing when we choose to act on it. More importantly whether or not that momentary electric whim develops into something greater than a shot of dopamine and adrenaline is determined by something wholly its opposite. Only when we can take those spontaneous instances of hyper creativity or genius and apply the boring act of discipline to them do we manifest something bigger. The white powdery synapses in the brain need its extremely dull cousin discipline to be more than a mental quickie.
Ernest Hemmingway said about writing “There is no rule on how to write. Sometimes it comes easily and perfectly; sometimes it’s like drilling rock and then blasting it out with charges.”
My man Hemmingway basically is saying MuthaFucka if you want to write, fucking write! Don’t’ wait for some magic fairy to come inspire you.
Jim Rohn said about discipline “Discipline is the bridge between goals accomplishment.”
My grand pappy JR is saying goals are meaningless unless we apply a concerted focused effort towards those goals.
Bruce Lee Said, “I fear not the man who has practiced 10,000 kicks once, but I fear the man who had practiced one kick 10,000 times.”
My Uncle…no really he is…Bruce is saying exceptional skill comes from the disciplined effort to perfect a single movement instead of being mediocre at thousands of them.
Point being, my own moment of inspiration means nothing unless I can take the second step and exercise discipline in my present weight loss routine. I had a giant jolt of coke a little over two weeks ago, and I’ve been riding on a 240-hour bender, which ended Thursday morning.
I rolled out of bed, and when I say rolled I mean rolled. I woke up feeling quite surprised because the day before I had ample rest, so starting the day exhausted felt off. In fact, when I woke up, the last thing I wanted to do was workout. Someone could have offered me a trough of teenage virgins followed by barrels of Ben & Jerry’s post workout and it would have not moved me.
I was able to get my shoes on, and get on the treadmill. I told myself just walk fatness, just walk. So I waddled for about 10 minutes. I decided the treadmill wasn’t going to do it for me this day, so I got off and planned a 40 minute EMOM.
EMOM stands for Every Minute On the Minute, essentially at the top of each minute you perform the work you have planned. Anytime left over is used for rest before the top of the next minute. I decided I would alternate between 7 reps of Russian Kettlebell Swings, and 7 reps of kettlebell deadlifts, both movements with a 45 lbs. kettlebell.
At the end of forty minutes I’d done 140 reps of Russian Kettlebell Swings, and 140 reps of deadlifts. During the first 20 minutes of work, I can only equate my feelings as hostile towards myself, and the world. Somewhere around round 22 I started to feel some adrenaline pumping and my body started t feel better about the workout. At the end of 40 minutes I was ready to punish myself some more.
The rope breaks on me and I just keep going.
So I did what Rybear calls a Task Priority of five rounds. I guess task priority is meathead for doing several different movements in order for a specific number of rounds for time. My task priority involved 50 single-unders and 25 American Kettlebell swings with a 25 lbs. kettlebell. I did these movements for five rounds, which took about ten minutes. The major victory occurred during the American Kettlebell swings. If you don’t know the American Kettlebell swing requires you to take the kettlebell and get it above your head, something about the utilization of energy and the effort…zzzzz…I don’t listen to half the shit meatheads say I just know its harder over a long period of time. I realized from the task priority I could carefully do activities which required me to reach above my head, something since my shoulder surgery I have not been able to do.
What I learned today, or perhaps I remembered from another life is sometimes you have to just do it. I had a 100 reasons why I shouldn’t workout this morning, but the one which outweighed all of them was I’m tired of struggling with my weight. I fucking hate thinking about, I hate it hindering me from social events, I hate everything it represents and everything it has limited me from doing.
Procrastination and discipline exist in the same moment, that microcosmic tick in time when you either decide to do something you don’t want to do right then, or you defer it for another day. I crossed a major hurdle today crossing into the realm of discipline and not deferment.