Nobody saw the blue band.
It was hidden from sight. Everybody thought my progression was that
rapid that I was able to do a chest to bar pull-up. What they did not
know was that even with the band, I was fighting with every inch of my
body and mind to pull all of my 53 kilos of me up.
How is it that I am more willing to lift the barbell than pull my own body weight?
Why is it harder to pull one's own weight than that of another?
Why is it harder to pull one's own weight than that of another?
The
truth is reiterated, pounded relentlessly into my brain: My own
nemesis is myself. Not the burpees. Not
the pull up bar. Not even the sled pull where Coach Chino's yell of "Big
pulls, Bea!" was deafening to my ears, as if my eardrums could burst
all on its own. No. My enemy is my own pathetic body, the voices in my
head, the devil inside that taunts me, "Why are you torturing yourself?
Just drop the rope and get the hell out of there!" My nemesis is my
very own self with
all its tainted glory.
That's really how it all goes, isn't it?
With every life choice we make, we come face to face not with that
fateful fork in the road but with our own pride, our hubris, our fears,
our indecisiveness because of our fears. We come face to face with who
and what we are when everybody is looking and when nobody is looking.
What breaks us is us.
But isn't it the same when we reverse the story?
What makes us, what heals us, what builds us and lifts us up from the rut we have allowed ourselves to wallow in is...us.
Why is it harder to pull one's body weight than the barbell?
Often
times, we forget ourselves because we prioritize the happiness of
others, thinking it's alright because at the end of the day, we can very
well manage our own self-accusations, our own renunciations. But what
happens then when our reservoir of strength dries up? What happens to
the people around us, whose happiness we have come to prioritize over
our own well-being? What happens to them?
To take care of oneself is ironically harder to do. Why? The answer sometimes is deep and poetic:
Because the demons we hold in our very souls are more fiery, more scary than those that live outside our heads.
And sometimes it is simple: We have allowed ourselves to believe that it is selfish to take care of ourselves.
The
barbell, we can throw it down on the ground after we're done with it.
Our body? Not that easy. Every single day, we live with ourselves. Every
single day we make choices, good and not so ideal ones. Every day, we
decide, "Is today the day that I will break my own soul? Or is today the
day that I will build up my own life?
What makes us is us.
When
I decide to build up my own life and not break it down, I am deciding
to build up the lives of others. I am deciding not to break them down.
When I eliminate the mindset that to take care of myself is selfish, I am giving space to embrace the truth: To NOT take care of myself IS selfish.
Therefore
when I take care of myself, decide to become healthier, more fit,
stronger, sharper in mind and body, I am taking care of the people I
have committed to take care of for the rest of my life. When I strive to
become better than who I am, they become better than who they are.
What breaks me is me. And where I am most weak, is where I will find my strength.
Leonard Cohen sang, " There is a crack, a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in."
Leonard Cohen sang, " There is a crack, a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in."
So
yes, today and in the coming days, from the weakest corners of my 53
kilo-body, my mind and soul I will build myself up, lift myself up so
that those around me may muster the courage to lift themselves up too
and let the glorious, transforming light get all the way in.
