Member-only story
The Mental Journey of A Good Workout
It took me years to realize what working out was for me — an emotional outlet. I am an emotional person. My mom remarked that I always have to workout so hard. As if there is something wrong with that. I do workout hard. Generally so worn out afterwards that I get a headache and need rest. It takes me most of the day to recover. I’m not convinced it’s a physical recovery, but a mental one.
There is no where in life to give it my all. Where I have few rules and am given the opportunity to pour my intensity and emotion into something worthwhile. I had something once, but it left me. We go to bull shit jobs. Mine has a large amount of bureaucracy and politics. I can work hard within a narrow scope of freedom. All I need to do is good work which requires no passion. Provides no means by which to exercise a key aspect of who I am.
I am an extremely intense person. I grew up hearing someone tell me that I shouldn’t be so intense. I get too much into things. I don’t maintain balance. I do things too hard and too much. For a while they convinced me. Being intense is wrong, but then I realized. I can’t not be intense. It’s who I am. Take years of intensity and bottle it up and you border on psychosis.
Lesson: Don’t listen to people when they tell you to not be yourself.
