I have talents. I can read music. I can recall dialog from nearly every movie I’ve ever seen. Even more impressively, I can refrain from spouting dialog from nearly every movie I’ve ever seen. But maybe my biggest talent? Talking myself out of things. Especially when it comes to my fitness. There is this nagging, defeatist voice that tells me I can’t do things, that I shouldn’t try. For a long time, I listened to that voice. It seemed to know what it was talking about. And then I realized: that voice? It’s not looking out for my best interests. That voice is afraid, and wants to stay afraid. That voice, frankly, is an asshole. Which–oh my god–means I’m the asshole. And I don’t want to be an asshole, so now I talk back. And I’m becoming pretty talented at it.
A-HOLE VOICE (AV): You’re going to be the weakest/slowest/oldest/most out-of-shape/ most inexperienced person there.
Back-Talk (BT): I wish. That person is the BEST. That person is kicking everyone else’s ass because they are trying that much harder. That person is a hero, and I would be honored to be that person.
AV: You just aren’t an athlete. You’re a sensitive soul; a poet, really, not one of those shallow jocks.
BT: Feeling superior, huh? What you’re really saying is I’m a wuss who doesn’t deserve to be fit and strong, and you are trying to hide insecurity behind disdain for others, and I’m not a teenager, so that doesn’t work on me anymore.
AV: The last time you tried this, it was hard and it sucked and you gave up.
BT: That’s why I’m trying again. And you know I remember this: