I’ve trained myself to be all Go Go Go.
For years I got up at 5:30 or 6am to run for miles and miles and miles, searching for adventure, searching for my body’s limits, searching for my mind’s limits. After getting injured, I switched pursuits to powerlifting. Lifting more. Being more. Doing more. Still searching for those limits.
I never found those limits. Or maybe I did, with a mind broken from sleep deprivation post child, and a dislocated knee that never found stability again.
I still haven’t shaken that Go Go Go attitude.
In the morning, the first thing I ask my son is, “What do you want to do today?” as I secretly hope he’ll say he wants to go on an adventure, go exploring, go searching searching for those limits.
He never does. He’s 3. He’s not interested in seeing how long we can walk for, how much ground we can cover, if we can make it to the other bay and back by nightfall.
He does love the beach, though.
I don’t. Can’t stand that sand getting in everything. Hate the feeling of sinking in the sand. Hate not being able to walk properly on it.
But we go anyway.
And it is here that my desire to Go Go Go is tamed.
It is here I am mesmerised by the water. Oh so calmly lapping at the shore. Those sun sparkles dancing so perfectly.
Person: so you wanna be a rapper huh?
Me: yea that’s correct.
Person: so how do you deal with the stress of not knowing if you’re ever gonna make it or succeed in the industry? i mean it is a one in a million chance..
Me: ahhhh, i don’t let that get to me!!
*later that night*