As Fast As I Can Go

Thursday always feels like the beginning of the second half of the week.

And today I am sore.

Deeply sore.

There’s no pretending otherwise, so I won’t. Today will require patience — a careful warm-up, slower transitions, and perhaps limiting the repetition of the move that has left me feeling slightly worse for wear.

A year ago, I would have pushed straight through it.

Pain meant effort. Effort meant progress. That logic often led to injury.

Now, something has shifted.

I’ve started to accept my limitations — and there are many. Accepting them doesn’t feel like weakness. It feels like intelligence. It feels like staying in the game.

So today may move slower than I’d prefer, but it will move at the speed I can honestly sustain. And that will be enough.

Am I looking forward to moving up and down hundreds of times?

Yes.
And no.

The contrast is part of the experience.

By the time I turned off the lights tonight, I knew I had made the right call. Slowing down made a demanding day far more enjoyable. I returned to my forms again and again, but without overcooking anything. No drama. No ego. Just steady work.

I’m very tired.

But the world feels balanced.

Lately, I’ve noticed something subtle — I don’t feel the need to constantly remind myself that I’m lucky. That used to be a conscious practice. A mental note of gratitude.

Now it seems quieter. More natural.

Perhaps I’m finally learning to simply live inside the decisions that brought me here — without needing to analyse them, justify them, or prove them right.

Just training.
Just learning.
Just being.

And that feels like progress of a different kind.