I’ve not quite met a slew of challenges lately. I wanted to run a marathon in under 4 hours, but finished in 4 hours and 1 minute. I wanted to eat a completely vegan diet, but was tempted by chocolate and caramel and pralines. I wanted to do Insanity, straight through without breaks, but I indulged in a 4 day respite when I road tripped to Georgia. And, the list goes on.
Reflecting on these “not quite met” challenges, I took to being really critical of my self-discipline. I’m sure some would argue that I’m fairly disciplined and my response would be
but only to a degree.
I workout 6 days a week, eat healthily most days, work 9 hours a day, pay all my bills on time, but all of these things seem natural, not challenging. In addition to my “not quite met” challenges, I’ve reconnected with an old friend, who is wildly into fun outdoorsy activities that I wish I was good at. I’m envious of the time he spends rock climbing and slacklining, wishing that when I had the chance to embark in such adventures years ago, I would have taken them. I didn’t, though, when I lived in mountainous South Western region of the US, because I was too scared of not meeting the challenge, scared that I’d fail in front of people who were really good at being adventurous and outdoorsy.
All these reminders of unmet challenges or missed opportunities have resulted in a spirit of slight regretfulness as well as a questioning of myself.
Am I disciplined?
Am I confident?
Am I adventurous?
Experiencing a bout of insecurity, I egged myself to sacrifice coffee, as a test of my discipline and ability to meet a challenge. The first day of my experiment wasn’t awful. My head pounded like the tapping feet of river dancers and I experienced moments of chills and inversely, moments of sweats. On the second day, I woke up with a pounding headache. Normally, I wash my hair with my head hanging upside down (I’ve heard it makes it curlier), but I couldn’t because it felt as if hail storm was occupying my skull. By the time I got to work, I was nauseous and hot. Before 8 am, I threw up 4 times and I spent the rest of the day with the trash can by my side and my water bottle snuggly situated between my fingers. Today is day 3 without coffee and I feel almost normal. I’m yawning more than usual and my head feels slightly cloudy, but I’m not miserable.
More than the peace of my physical comfort, I feel proud of myself. Every morning, when my roommate’s coffee has been brewing, I’ve denied myself the indulgence. Yesterday, when I was miserably sick and throwing up, I knew one cup of coffee would suffice to help me make it through the day, but I didn’t partake in the gas station run that would have resulted in such a fix. I’m meeting a challenge, a seemingly contrite challenge, but a challenge nonetheless. As a result, I feel like my will is a lot stronger, I feel more confident, I feel like I can meet more challenges and that’s a lovely feeling.
Perhaps, this summer, I’ll overcome my insecurities about regarding rock climbing and slacklining and maybe I’ll eventually convert to a raw food eater, like I’ve been considering for so long. Or maybe, I’ll just pursue other challenges. Regardless, my coffee stripping experience has taught me to embrace things unknown, things difficult.
As cliché as it may seem, I’ve learned to love myself a little more through this challenge and that lifts my spirits.
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