crystal method done me good

Tonight I sat with it. No, I rode with it. In need of a great booty-kicking sweat, I grabbed the rollers & my bike and hopped on. I don't love them. I like that I have to balance, 'cuz it's certainly been in need of help even moreso since the great crash of '10. But try as I might, I just don't enjoy riding rollers. It's what I had available so I somewhat begrudgingly started my session. My legs felt surprisingly fresh, so I upped the cadence and pushed it. Crystal Method blared from the stereo and created a rather pleasant feel to the whole affair. Then over 1/2 way through, nearing the end of a song, I turned off. Shortly beforehand I'd started feeling some aggression. Pissed off. I didn't want to ride anymore. I stopped pedaling and put one foot down and said, "That's good enough. At least I rode a little." Ruh roh. THAT was the wrong attitude. I stopped and asked, "are you always going to quit too early? is good enough always good enough for you? really? it's ok to push just a bit and then say to hell with it and give in?" Um, nooooo, this is NOT ok. I've half-assed through much of my life. Putting in effort when effort was due, but with rare exception, not pushing to my limit. My limits are much farther than anyone would imagine and I'm proud of that, except I don't often do much about it.

Back on the bike I went. I was floored that the next song on was Comin' Back. You keep comin' back again. You keep comin' back for more. Oh, it pissed me off terribly! One person only entered my sights and it struck me that so often we're told not to run away from things. To stand and face them. Here I was on a bike, riding rollers, going nowhere, and yet I used this anger to propel me. Faster. Away. But I wasn't running. I was taking myself out of the situation entirely, and for this I feel just fine.

I was so proud of myself for finally pushing through, even if in reality, it wasn't a huge deal. Why did I just discount that? It really WAS a big deal. I didn't give up. I didn't accept *good enough*. I actually felt a bit queasy once I stopped, but so be it. I sat outside with Scooter for a while and felt happy, proud, pleased that I showed me. That voice that's told me it's ok to just do what's expected. That what I do is often more than others, so surely it's enough. That voice needs to shut its trap.