I am wanting my body to be strong. I want the physical ability to do the things my heart longs to do. I don’t want to hurt myself every time I lift something. I don’t want to fall and break a bone.
Yesterday I met with a personal trainer. She assessed my strength. I couldn’t even do one push up. My body doesn’t have enough joints to follow the patterns she demonstrated for my test.
As I struggled she wrote many notes. I asked her if she had ever worked with anyone in such bad shape. She said my strength level was quite typical for someone in “my age group.” She assured me that I will do well as she personalizes a torture chamber for me (the word “torture” is my term, not hers).
My body is telling me this morning that it would be happier if I would just let it rest. My heart is surging with a passion to push through the pain.
Do I rest or risk?
My body and my heart are in an intense competitive place. At the moment, I will either succeed in this training challenge or die trying.