How many times have I given up telling myself that I can’t go on, thinking that I have reached my limit… an imaginary line I set for myself?
Feeling tired, discouraged & totally drained as I walked into the gym this morning trying to convince myself that exercise will help. The eyes of perfectly groomed girls with stunning bodies checking me out didn’t help in easing that lump in my throat. I did felt like a “5alto” in my thirties.
With a bright smile shot back at them, and my facade of confidence that I got to master over the years, I walked to the bicycle & started my warm out.
As my legs began to burn, I started to contemplate the new steps I’m about to take in my life and the turn in my career. Thinking why did I wait, why didn’t I take the decision earlier, why was it that what I’ve always shut away very aggressively is now logical & desirable.
My eyes were fixed at one thing: “The StairMaster” machine. The monster! I hate it, I was never – no matter how fit I was – able to survive it past a certain point. No matter how hard I pushed, I couldn’t push past that limit.
It was staring back at me, avoided by others as much as it was avoided by me. It wasn’t inviting, it was more challenging. I took the challenge (which to a certain extent took me aback), I walked there with my choice of 80s & 90 music in my earphones, sipped some water & set it to fat burning mode.
As I started, the first few minutes were easy, heart beat normal, breathing steady, and I take it gracefully. Some more minutes, heart racing, breathing ha
rd, thighs and calves starting to burn. A few more minutes, almost gasping, can’t control my heart rate, and I want to stop… then there it was, my limit: 32 minutes. That’s it, that’s where I stop, it’s my personal limit and that’s where I end!
Suddenly, instead of slowing down, I didn’t! I just didn’t stop. My hands involuntarily circled my waist and I started gasping.
34 minutes: It’s already beyond “The Limit” so what if I can reach the 40 minutes mark…
41 minutes: I can’t feel my legs, my throat burns as I inhale, I no longer try to steady my breath or lower my heart rate…
47 minutes: I want to reach for some water but I’m afraid to lose balance…
52 minutes, I wonder how much longer before I faint it’s no longer my legs, pain shoots up my spine and spreads over my entire body…
58 minutes: I think its 8 or is that a 0, my eyes tear and things get out of focus the more I try to focus on them… I will know for sure once I hit the one hour mark and then I will stop.
62 minutes: Oh, I didn’t notice that I have already finished the hour, I wonder if they will say anything about all the sweat that’s dripping on the floor…
69 minutes: hehehe, @KGharaibeh will like this…
72 minutes: I have to stop, but somehow, I just don’t know how to!
93 minutes: I hit the stop button. I stop!
No one is around me, no one is proud of me, its just me and my personal limit thats been shattered.
As I take my shower I start thinking of all those times that I stopped because it was my limit, because I couldn’t take it anymore, because I didn’t want to take it anymore. All the things I didn’t finish, all the things I didn’t continue, all the things I never had guts to try, all the things I didn’t know how to start with.
Just like that…
one casual morning in the gym had me reconsider the majority of significant and important decisions of my life, and showed me that what I believe to be my limit is just a subliminal excuse that I chose to believe in without real boundary. What about you?
April 14, 2012 at 2:24 PM
bravoooo
, jad 
battles are 1st won conceptually, inside our minds. Gym or no gym bounded
—
e7em; so it didn`t have anything to do with compacting those stunning ladies whom saluted u at 1st?
April 15, 2012 at 10:19 AM
hehehe… actually, if it were any other day, I would say that it was them… but no! Truly it wasn’t.
April 15, 2012 at 11:20 AM
build on upon that then
transfer to other circles of YOU