This morning, I was contemplating whether I should do some yoga. Almost immediately, what I'd like to call the Gollum-part of my brain began questioning why I would want to do something so silly. After all, yoga makes me hot and sweaty, sometimes I look silly or fall over while I'm doing it, and it fatigues my muscles.
For most of my life, I've identified as "non-athletic" and let myself off the hook for most non-required physical activity. And, as we all know, a body at rest tends to stay at rest. The longer I rested, the more reasons/excuses/justifications the Gollum-part gave me for continuing to do so.
But now, even though I know that I enjoy moving my body, that Gollum-part, full of reasons, excuses, and justifications, still makes a valiant effort to derail me from every workout. With the advent of my adult-onset athleticism, it has even added a few new lines to its repertoire.
"You ate so well today, you don't need to exercise, too."
"You ran 6 miles last night. Sure, yoga will stretch out your sore muscles and strength training will help you run faster next time but YOU RAN 6 MILES LAST NIGHT."
"Look how far you've come. Isn't the point you've reached good enough? Why don't you just take it easy? Forever."
Etc. Etc. Ad Nauseum. It's nasty little voice tries to soothe me into complacency.
As I listened to this script playing in my mind today, I felt disgusted that I was still listening to the Gollum-part. Then, confused by how my mind continues to fight something I know every bit of me enjoys. Finally, I made a decision.
From now on, as often as I remember, when the Gollum-part speaks up, I'm going to respond, "SHUT UP! You don't speak for me. I'm going to see what my body can do today. It might be a little. It might be a lot. But it's going to be something. Go away and NEVER come back!"
And, some day, just like in the Lord of the Rings, the Gollum-part WILL go away. Only, in my world, he'll never come back.
It's an imperfect metaphor. So sue me.