Reminder: Days End

It’s hard to see the forest for the trees. Some days can have you so badly beaten down you forget it was just one tree doing the beating, not all trees. There are still plenty of trees out in that forest to attack and reduce you down to a bloody pulp.

Not to mention when it rains it pours. Not only do you have one tree beating you but it’s pouring down rain. Now, you’re wet and the tree is also receiving vital nutrients so it’s getting stronger.Perhaps you're getting less splinters though since it's not as dry.

Then there’s bad news comes in three. The one tree wasn’t enough so here comes some jacked-up-on-water buddies to make sure that when you’re down, you stay down.

When your swollen shut, bloodshot, bruised and battered eyes finally do open and the trees have returned to the forest and the sun is shining, you’re expected to get back up on your broken legs and shattered knee caps and saunter forward. You’re expected after being stricken with all that life can throw at you to be okay, to survive, to keep the momentum of life going.

Get back on the horse. What if the forest killed your horse? What if it was a Neil Gaiman forest that sucked everything down to the marrow? Some days it feels like it’s just me broken and battered trying to fend off trees from truly ending things. Some days it feels like the sky is falling and I sow but never reap. Some days I want to play dead even though I know it won’t stop the trees from coming for me. Even though I know it’s hiding from my problems.

Sunsets are truly beautiful. I love my sun rises but sunsets bring a close to the day. It means you get to sleep soon or wander or just be in darkness. It brings a conclusion. Days end but a new one begins just as quickly. Days end, recollect yourself, formulate a plan for the next day, try to remember that not all is lost or bad. That thanks to deforestation the forest can’t go on forever. There’s an end somewhere and you just have to reach it but don’t wait for a knight in shining armor. Smear some mud on your face so the trees can’t smell you and learn to survive. Giving up, is when the forest wins and there’s no coming back from that.  

Rogue Athletes

Yesterday at my kickboxing class I wasn’t feeling it. I was going through the motions. My partner for this class was a lovely petite lady who was wailing on the bag, just powerhouse kicks and punches. I repressed the urge to say “Roadhouse” after every kick but she was truly amazing. I easily had 4 inches of height on her and could not even begin to produce the power she was dishing. 

When we started chit chatting between sets, I told her she must be crazy strong. She denied it and said,

“I try. I’m not like an athlete or anything.”  

 For whatever reason this threw me for a loop. I remember when I was first getting into longer distance running and I was having so many issues and my running partner finally stated that I run 4 days a week, I go to the gym the other days, I work hard, I’m an athlete. I need to treat myself like an athlete. She was right. I started a better stretch routine, ate more, ate better, drank more water, really forced myself to be more.

The girl who was kicking the bejeesus out of this bag WAS an athlete and I told her as such. I told her she works hard and often and she’s strong and beautiful and that makes her an athlete more so than anyone who plays an organized sport. 

“Thank you. I think as women we are so often so hard on ourselves and keep thinking we can do more or better. It’s nice to be able to give myself credit.” She said.

The rest of class I was asking her how to get better kicks, how to have better form and she knew the answers to all of them. I told her that being an athlete is someone who is training as hard as they can. We’re both athletes but because we don’t belong to a sport or only play one kind of game I told her we were rogue athletes. She loved that term, rogue athletes. It became our battle cry in kickboxing when we felt like giving up.

Dear All Rogue Athletes,

               Don’t let anything define you. You are strong. You are capable. You are willing to pound out that extra mile on the pavement or pedal 5 miles faster or swim 4 more extra laps or do 5 more sets. You are true to yourself and your body. You give it what it needs. You know it better than your doctor. You can push its limits. Whether the backdrop is the great outdoors, a cityscape, a rural road, a park, a gym or even your own home, you work hard and deserve to know that you’re an athlete. You’re the best kind of athlete; you’re a rogue athlete. You’re your own coach, teammate and ref.  You define when and where, how and why. You set your own rules, your own limits and push yourself harsher than you thought possible. You destroy PRs and smile at your pain. You’re a champion. You’re the eye of the tiger. You are what many wish to be, an athlete. 

Love,

LeilaFace