My whole body aches this morning. My arms feel like they were set on fire. My shoulder blades don't want to move without eliciting a searing pain down my back. I think Mr. Johnson and Mr. Jones at Taekwondo were intent on wearing out our arms this week. I hate push-ups, because after two and a half years of taking Taekwondo, I can still pretty much only do them from my knees. Another thing I learned this week: I can't for the life of me do a pull-up. I tried this week, and I failed miserably. I even had a chair to stand on to get me started. I put my hands on the pull-up bar, and I dropped, trying to pull myself up, then just felt my body sinking until I hit the ground.
This little defeat reminded me, oh so much, of the days of the Presidential Fitness Award. It reminded me of dressing out at gym in my navy Shorts and white MA tee-shirt (GO NAVY!!!), and standing in the weight room looking at that pull-up bar with distress. While the boys could do any number of pull-ups (seemingly), I couldn't even pull myself up, and in those days I weighed like 90 pounds or less! Some things never change (my inability to do a pull-up. I will never see 90 lbs again)!
I probably for the life of me will never be able to do a pull-up, but I look at my arms from all the exercise I've been doing and they're getting in shape. They look about a gazillion times better now than they did back in 2011 before I started taking Taekwondo.
I was thinking last night, while procrastinating, about how as human beings we always want more and we always want better. We're never satisfied with what we have. I don't know if this is true of all humans--probably not--but certainly Americans have this mentality. I was thinking about how I look at my body, and I see little pouches of fat, and I see all the imperfections written on me, some of them go along with a story, an injury or a birth of a child. I was focusing on the imperfections, instead of seeing what I've achieved. I'm a second level brown belt. I've been exercising consistently for two years. Yeah, I might not have a perfect body, but I have a healthy body and that should be what's important. I might look at the models and the actresses in the magazines or on television, and wish I could be like them. I want more than I can have. These actresses/models have personal trainers for about eight hours a day. They either don't eat or they eat a diet prepared by a chef in their glorious mansions. They certainly are not sitting on their A$$ for eight hours at work, and they certainly aren't sitting at a computer in all their free time trying to write a book. The ones who do write probably dictate that as they run to some lowly assistant who then has to type it out for them and gets absolutely no credit. Yeah--you know what I'm talking about.
I'm one of those people who was born into a "wanting" more mentality, and I'm not sure why. Maybe my imagination takes me to places I shouldn't go, or maybe I have an unrealistic expectation of how to succeed. But I'm trying to be happy with what I have. I'm trying to look at my life, my body, my writing, and tell myself I have what I NEED. Because I do. Right now, I have everything I need. I'm healthy and fit. I have wonderful children. I have a drive that will hopefully one day let me become a successful author. This is all I need. Who would want more?
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