my best right now
Tolerating and accepting my best has always been a difficult concept for me, especially when it pertains to something I have my sights set high on.
When my ability, capacity, or constraints don’t match the expectations in my mind, the uncomfortable, perfectionistic friction that results is often an extremely unwelcome feeling that often brings up much resistance within me.
So at those times, being okay with just my best is a challenge. And not my best ever, but the need for understanding and embracing my best for the situation, in this moment. My best right now.
All we can ever do is our best right now. With what we have. With where we are.
I went to the gym for the first time in eight days today, after getting sick and taking several days off to recover. I had been in an excellent groove, feeling really strong in my routine and my lifts, in a terrific spot in my competition prep, and feeling very confident and excited to finish the final two weeks of my preparation. My latest workout was last Wednesday, and I was meant to go for max effort new one rep max tests on Saturday… but then I got sick. I was down for the count, pretty much Thursday night through Sunday, and Monday I was able to go back to work, though still recovering, so I didn’t rush getting back to the gym, with my lower energy and stuffy body that still needed recuperation.
Feeling like I’d fallen so far off the rails and away from my routine and plan — not even having a plan for how to finish out my prep, now that I’ve lost a week and don’t feel confident in my body’s ability to test my max lifts now, after being sick, and so close to competition… all the noise in my head… all the worries and obstacles — this has really been a struggle for me. My mind has been fraught and unclear on how to move forward.
Working out provides clarity and strength for me, in all areas of my life. Lacking that impetus for a clear head and strong foundation has an impact.
As the time away has extended longer and longer, I’ve started to feel worse and worse about it, and the strong, automatic, intentionally built-in impulse to maintain my consistent gym habit has been missing. Getting back to it starts to sound difficult and unappealing, like getting yourself to start waking up early or keeping your closet organized or going for a daily walk again, if you’ve stopped doing it for awhile. Restarting the things that are best for us — even if we truly love them — can be a battle. It can be hard to lurch yourself out of inactivity and toward the effort that yields your greatest happiness once again.
So, the excuses have been mounting, I still really don’t feel physically back to normal, we’ve been busy, I can’t decide when the best time to resume is, I don’t know how I’m going to proceed and get ready for meet day once I have resumed, I’ve been worried about my strength and if getting sick so close to competition will have a major negative impact on hitting my goals, etc etc etc.
I knew enough was enough, and I really just needed to close the door on all of that, shut all those voices up, and get back to the gym. Even if I didn’t have all the answers yet. Even if I hadn’t figured out the path forward. Even if I didn’t really feel like going and wasn’t sure what I’d do once I got there. Even if I was scared.
So I put on my gym clothes, I got myself to one of my favorite places, I walked my butt in the door, and I proceeded to move.
It is no exaggeration to say within the first three minutes, I felt so much better. As soon as I started rolling my joints out, moving my limbs, stretching everything, taking the first few warm up steps on the treadmill… it was like my insides came to life and simultaneously released — big sigh of relief and contentment, “finally!” — and also grasped for more. Like my body was telling me how much I’ve really missed this and how much I need it.
I was so happy to be moving. So glad to be back in a workout.
I lifted, and I decided to just follow a programmed day in this week’s cycle in my strength programming app. I made a modification or two, based on how I felt in my first session back and with some consideration for my competition coming up and keeping in mind how I might want to proceed in the next week before the big day.
Yet I did not find the answers to all my questions, I did not quell every fear, the entire path ahead has not been cleared, and I still don’t know everything that’s coming next. I don’t have the whole plan. But at least I’ve started again.
I once read a fabulous essay — I wish I could remember where/by who — about how the return is arguably and evidently the bedrock of any commitment and creative practice. Any worthwhile habit we want to keep and beautiful life we want to build asks only that we keep showing up. We simply have to return to it. Our best each day is enough, a little is better than nothing, and the only necessary piece is that we do return. If we never came back, of course the thing would diminish and eventually disappear — just cease to progress or to be part of our lives — but if we just keep returning, and hold onto that simple, powerful, sometimes difficult promise, everything will be okay. The commitment and practice continues.
I returned.
Then I felt the friction.
Tolerating my best, when it doesn’t meet my expectations and wishes, is super challenging.
Accepting the current reality brings the discomfort of disappointment and letting go of the idea of what I wanted instead.
Friction.
Tonight’s friction rubbed up inside me because the workout felt hard. I was struggling more than I wanted to be. It made me worried I’m going to perform really poorly on meet day next week and that the strength I’ve wanted, imagined, and worked so hard for for three months might not be there.
I was having a hard time with some of the weights that I was using prior to getting sick. My endurance was lower. Maybe these things were pretty small, and it was a fantastic workout, all things considered. Perhaps the dip in performance and ability was minute. Maybe everything still will be okay, and this blip in the plan isn’t going to rob much from my vision and ability.
Maybe, maybe not.
I was frustrated because I am harder on myself than I would ever be on someone else I love. I love myself; I do. I think I count myself within the people I love. And yet, perhaps I do not let that love for myself run as deeply or as strongly as the love I more freely give to other people.
This is common, of course, isn’t it? We readily extend support, encouragement, and understanding to others, but self-compassion is trickier. It feels harder. Like a taller order, a bigger ask. Like we are somehow less deserving.
I was frustrated because what I deeply want might be hanging in the balance, and sometimes it’s so difficult to zoom out and gain some clarity and perspective in these situations. It’s hard to think calmly and remind myself this one workout isn’t going to make or break my success, the one week off recovering — which was necessary and the best I could have done! — won’t rob me of all the three months’ work before. How I do tonight in the gym — my very first workout back and still not in peak health after my cold, remember! — is not direct proof for how I will do in competition, which is still nine days away!
I did the best I could tonight. Not my best, most impressive work out ever… but it was solid, and it was a great session after a week away, especially for still feeling pressure in my head and sinuses and still nursing a cough.
I will continue to do my best, for right now, over the course of the next week, figuring it out as I go along, making decisions as I see how everything feels and unfolds.
I will do my best, at the time, on meet day. I will do my best with where I’ve landed. I’ll do my best with the energy and ability I have. I’ll do my best with the strength and recovery within me.
Sometimes, bad things happen that we can’t control. It’s not my fault I got sick, and it is no negative reflection on my own preparedness, passion, care, effort, performance, or strength. It just happens, and then we do our best to recover and care for ourselves, and we move forward from there. Unfortunate timing, sure. But everything will be okay.
Maybe I’ll still reach my comp day goals, maybe I won’t.
But this has been a great invitation for me to dive more deeply into myself, notice my responses and self-relationship, and practice self-compassion.
This prompted me to think intently on acceptance. More on that next…
