Through It

Training injuries feel almost normal here. Not unique. Not personal. The same story, in different bodies.

There are brief stretches when everything feels aligned — movement clean, pain quiet — but they never last long. When they pass, you continue anyway. Pain becomes part of the process. Not an obstacle, just another presence in the room.

I used to take that personally. As if something had gone wrong. Months of training have stripped that idea away. If you’re pushing honestly, discomfort is unavoidable. Teeth grit themselves without asking.

There is a way to avoid it, of course. Train lightly. Stay comfortable. Plenty of people do. It’s never been my way, and it still isn’t.

So another day comes to an end carrying the familiar weight — hours of physical work layered with mental fatigue. I have to remind myself that none of this is accidental. I chose it.

Perspective helps, even if I don’t dwell on it. I see others here — my age, younger — and I notice the differences. Not to measure myself against them, but to stay oriented. To understand where I actually am.

Somewhere inside the effort, there’s still a thread of recognition. Not pride exactly. More like familiarity. This way of working has always been there, waiting for space.

The day wasn’t easy.
It didn’t need to be.

It’s done now.