The Long and Winding Road

I’m officially being trained.

With a trainer. She’s hilarious. I think that’s why both Caitlin and I chose her. After our first meeting with her she marveled at the time by singing the word “siiiiick.” And it was then we knew, we knew she was the one.

She’s not only VERY good at her job, but she’s hours of entertainment as well.

It’s also a blessing to have Caitlin with me during the process. Working together. Egging each other on. It also gives me some sort of sick joy in knowing that I’m not the only one who’s aching at the end of all these workouts.

I’m a bit of a sadistic narcissist. Is there any other kind, you ask?

I have to say, this experience is really unlocking something inside of me.

I’m approaching it like I’ve done with most challenges in the past year and a half — with stubborn grit

I have the fire of every off-handed comment, every sideways glance, every doubt anybody ever had in me — And it is fuelling me.

Today the trainer asked me what I was staring at while doing the workout.

I answered “nothing.”

But, that’s not true.

I’m looking past the pain, the guilt, the doubt, the image, the anxiety, the heart ache, the grief, and the fear. I’m seeing through it. Because I’m not defined by any of it. I create my own definition. And all of these satellite feelings aren’t my concern anymore. They’re just bits of sharp stucco that stick into as you try to move through life.

That’s not to say I should ignore them. Acknowledgement of how you feel is important. Because every now and then I do feel a poke. But, instead of letting it overcome me. I think about why that bit stuck me to begin with, and then I proceed to sand it down into a smooth surface.

And that’s how it goes. You sand things down, bit by bit, until eventually all the stucco is gone.

Because, let’s face it, nobody likes stucco. That shit is hideous.

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