Here’s to you…
To the sleepy-eyed warriors who make the studio their first destination.
To the mothers, fathers, nurses and up-all-nighters who have a thousand places they’d rather be, but come anyway. Here’s to driving by Chick-Fil-A without making the turn, one more time. Here’s to pushing past excuses and towards yourself. For holding your abs when you sneeze because they hurt so good. Because that pain is your prize. For conquering your body and your mind yet again. For whooping your own ass and loving every minute of it. For unloading the day onto vinyl. For holding plank 10 seconds longer. For marking your territory with your sweat on the mat. Cause you’re a beast and everyone needs to know it. For ordering a salad when you’re dying for fries. For making the drive to the studio without turning around. Here’s to wearing dirty workout gear when laundry is full. For changing your “I can’ts” into I CAN’s. For eventually believing it. For munching on celery instead of chips. For tangled hand wraps and musty gloves. For bruised knuckles. For tasting your own sweat and wanting more. For feeling like Bruce Lee when your front kick was sick and you knocked the bag flat on its back. For sweaty high fives and those damn burpees. For missing the bag and hitting your nose. For treating yourself after a week of hard work. For not feeling guilty when you make a mistake. For remembering you’re human, not a robot. For burning legs and wobbly knees. For the grunts and the shouts as you push the old you out. For chipping your pedicure. For mastering that jumping roundhouse like a boss. For adding a push-up to your burpees just to prove you can. For tripping, for falling, for scrapes and sprains. For getting up, brushing it off and strapping on those gloves again. Because this bag isn’t going to beat itself.
Idaliz Seymour from I Love Kickboxing Loganville
Print it, Hang it