It is almost noon on Thursday afternoon and I am in the midst of my writer’s workout. That consists of sets of curls, military presses and other assorted exercises. In a few moments I’ll head downstairs to hit the treadmill and then shower.
That follows two hours of basketball last night where my body humbled the ego and reminded us that we aren’t 25 anymore. Â I have said and written it a million times but this aging thing is hard for me. I don’t have to have the exact body or metabolism that I used to have but I demand something better. I demand that the body work with me to make it happen which is part of why I have instituted The Writer’s Workout.
I am on deadline and have stuff that needs to get done but my brain has slipped into neutral. The physical nature of this workout is intended to help fight the clock and let my mind rest. I need to shut it down for a short while so that I can hit the ground running harder than before. I keep hammering away on this story because it has to be written but the characters aren’t speaking to me right now.
That is not because of writer’s block because I see the words and the scenes but something isn’t clicking so it is off to other things. When the voices inside my head (no, I am not crazy) grow silent it is always a sign to step back for a few.
So I stand in front of the mirror in nothing but my underwear (not going to get locked out this time) and face the brutal truth. This body is telling me that part of the reason why it won’t cooperate is because it needs more than occasional maintenance. The calendar on my desk reminds me that I really am in my forties and that it is past time to work harder on developing new habits.
I want to compete in the Ironman when I turn 50. I want my son to do it with me. So I start pushing harder now to make the changes in habit and diet. I take the good things that I have been doing and use them as small victories to build upon. I change my workout slightly to accommodate some changes and then I hit the ground running again. The Taurus inside doesn’t believe in using doors, he wants to go through the obstacles in his path. Patience isn’t his virtue, but he needs to make it his.
That Ironman is going to make one hell of a story but the best part are the stories to come before that. The best part is savoring the journey that we call life. I remind the children each day that I love them, tell them that they are important. Each week I make a point to give them their special blessing, whether we are together or apart. They need to remember and understand that I carry those I love most wherever I go.
It doesn’t matter whether we speak or not. Those I love most are with me always.
The Writer’s Workout doesn’t allow for more time than it has taken to write these words. Twelve minutes is all I have. It is time to hit the treadmill. Time to shake off more rust. Time to run, but trust me I will be back soon. Gear up my friends because the words will soon be flowing fast and furiously from my fingertips. There is much joy to be had and much to be shared.
What do you think?