The mental side of fitness is something I never really thought about or encountered before. Before this journey when a class or exercise would get too hard I’d just quit. It was a simple solution to an unpleasant situation, but it meant that I’ve never had to push past the “oh, fuck, I might die or throw up (or both)” feeling.

Cue tonight. I’ve been battling a cold and it’s been over a week since I’ve been to the box to workout with Mel, my amazing trainer. I’ll be honest, I want really feeling like a workout tonight and thought that maybe I’d half-ass it. Yeah, Mel was having none of that.

So for the first time in almost ever I had to figure out how to push through when every ounce of my being was screaming at me to quit. To give in. To lie down and run out the clock.

I asked Mel if anyone ever quits on her. She thought about it and then answered no and immediately reminded me that I was supposed to be doing some push ups. I can see why no one quits. You simply don’t have the opportunity. The reps come fast, the clock is ticking, and if you stop to think you’d cry. So you don’t stop.

My workout tonight was nothing hard. For a seasoned veteran it would seem like a warm up. But tonight it kicked my ass all over the mat.

But for the first time I didn’t quit. I kept going and dug deep. I listened to Mel telling me that I could do it if I just kept breathing. If I just gave her 30 minutes of my life. If I just got my head to stop pestering my body and let my muscles work.

I almost threw up. I wanted to cry. I did curse. But I beat my brain. I won. And for that I’m proud.