As it comes to walking, I have two modes. I can either commute or cavort. Commuting looks like an Olympic sport, energizing music in the headphones and a pace that makes faces blur. Cavorting wasn’t just for the glitterati- humble, plain folk get by just fine, one step at a time, no glam or glitz to lose your head over. I could not seem to cross that disappointing valley for training. I improved when I practiced whether it was rugby in high school or writing. Yet, eventually, I’d slow down from commuting to cavorting until I just quit. My pride aside, I stopped, I really believe because I didn’t see the crazy things I wanted. On the pitch, this one kid Paul could kick a ball clear over the high school if he wanted. He didn’t seem to run out of gas on breakaways. He even broke tackles. The picture of a 10, I thought. (Positions on the field are referred to as numbers. Writing on this here notebook, I have to come clean. I did not ever kick the ball around after school, not as much as he did.
Training, in my experience, often ends like a cliché. You know the punchline. Start strong, struggle for a few, then give up. The traveler’s journey halted as he collapsed in the valley cold, worn down by the uncertainty he grew close to his destination. These hand grips are like that. I reasoned I might reduce hand cramps while writing, increase grip strength and improve dexterity for playing shooters on mouse and keyboard. In the meantime, I can’t shake this other feeling… of uncertainty, insecurity. “Everyone else” fever- everyone else who does it pops off!
Why can’t I?
Like I wrote before, people tend to observe three groups. The many, the powerful. I look so much at those closest to me, I can hardly see myself, what I’m doing. On a snowy night, that leads to an accident. A fender-bender makes passersby rubberneck, then bam, another collision two hundred feet down the lane.
Does the story end happily every after? The future isn’t written, so here I am, hoping this ink on college-ruled might lead to a breakthrough. The road so far shows the process beats goals, no doubt, next question. What I want is consistency in my performance – games, health and to keep it a buck, my bread. I cannot keep losing focus. I think, one process to improve my health might be to schedule my breaks instead of the workouts. Yeah, I can train everyday for 2 years and lose my hair, but discretion is the better part, the middle of the baked macaroni. So maybe I could watch my cool clips, then practice, with an image of keeping consistent with my past glory. I could schedule play games after training the way I loved scrimmages during practice. Working out before work, I picture the best. Getting paid for my time, I could pay myself back with good health, doing cardio and free-weight repetitions. Photography, writing, reading and my things all shout this one idea: perspective. I don’t have to work out, eat right or get play of the game all the time. I ¬get to look hot, feast on my favorite foods- burgers- and own kids on the internet. I like where this training’s headed.
