When Everything Feels Like Sh*t: Why You NEED the Dreaded Off-Day

I sat looking at this blank document for about a week, writing and deleting thoughts. With impeccable timing as always, the universe came along and brought me a 3-hour training session from hell. Mid-horrendously struggling through my lifts, it dawned on me the perfect topic to talk about: When your training feels like the equivalent of walking...but you’re on fire and forced to listen to Daughtry on loop.

So there I was getting the world’s biggest struggle session, easy weight was wrecking me, stuffing donuts in my face was not even helping me. It became sorely obvious as I lay there on the gym floor fighting to cover the frustration on my face, that off-days are the quickest way to shatter your confidence in 2 hours or less. You can never understand your reference point for what sh*t feels like until you want to go nose deep into Ben and Jerry’s because depression struck faster than your spoon could hit the pint of ice cream. Taking a step back, it has dawned on me that maybe that is the point. Maybe feeling like complete dog doo doo has a purpose.

Bear with me for a second but it seems that when I put the ice cream down and look at anything tough that I have endured in life and in lifting, when the feeling of irritation dissipates I always make my way back and prove that I am more than the person cringing in failure on the floor. Call it redemption or call it strength but there is something that comes forth after feeling challenged that wasn’t quite there before. Every off day I go through bears a lesson in humility, finding a way to express gratitude about how truly amazing it is that my body lifts heavy weight day in and day out. Every missed lift forces me to fix the holes in my training and refocus. Staying the course, through the ugliness and sh*t, has led to greater things than being continually great ever has. It separates those that are passionate and crazy enough to walk through the fire long enough to turn off the Daughty, lace up their shoes again, and grow to be better than when they first walked in.