Being Jaded611

While I was riding on an empty bus this morning, another 5am workout marked by shaky muscles, the word ‘grit’ popped in my head. Someone told me that I had grit not too long ago and I laughed it off, not one to take compliments graciously. It danced in my mind, intertwining itself with visual images of this journey I’m on.  Do I really have grit?

Yeah, I have grit.  Grit is waking up every morning at 4:30am to be at the gym by 5am, even when I haven’t slept very well the night before.  Grit is talking myself through every damn minute of a 45 minute cardio session, and when I feel like giving up, cranking it up another 2 levels.  Grit is getting stuck at the bottom of the hack squat machine; taking a deep breath and bringing that baby back up, inch by inch.  Grit is looking at dinner and taking a small portion when I have He-Man size hunger.  

I worked for every letter in that word and made it mine.  Smiling I looked out of the bus window with a sense of pride I’d never really felt before.  It was still dark out, but I could make out graffiti on brick wall.  I leaned closer to the window and read it: “You Go Girl”.  My smile widened as the bus pulled away.

This entry was posted on Monday, March 16th, 2009 at 4:28 pm and is filed under Other. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.