There are times when the pace, it is challenging. Such as, to pluck an example at random, sort of nowish. Yesterday, for instance. Got up shortly after 5 am after another too-short night (workworkwork) and went for a quick swim in the lake. I was still feeling the previous day's training so I kept the swim easy.
Had breakfast, did a day's worth of computer work in 45 minutes, fed the kids, cleaned up, packed and drove back to the city. Early lunch, then off to the dojo for karate class at noon. Which was excellent. I mean hard. I mean both. A short 90-minute break to go run errands with Middle Daughter before training again between 2:30 and 4:00.
And it's hot. And my hormones are all over the map (one day I'll write a book about exactly how wretched perimenopause really is because it does things like giving you hot flashes while you train in the already overheated dojo, gngngn), I pulled a hamstring, my foot still hurts where the deer flies feasted way back on Friday and basically have no gas at all. So of course I'm finding training hard. Harder than usual, I mean. But there's no quitting allowed so I grit my teeth, suck it up, and keep going as hard as I can.
Which, to be honest, doesn't produce spectacular results. But I'll tell you what it does: it makes you tougher. Every time you push yourself past the point where you thought you should pass out flat on the floor you get tougher, harder, more badass. Not because your body is getting tougher (although it is), but because your mind is.
They say your most dangerous opponent is the one inside your head. It's that little voice telling you to sit down and rest already. They're right. That voice is out to get you. That's why it's important to slap it down every chance you get, even when you have no gas left in the tank.
Especially when you have no gas left in the tank.