With a compelling reason to hit the gym, you'd think I'd at least make the most of my time there. Instead, I found valid reasons to cut corners. After one surgery, I found it difficult to regain my stamina. The treadmill left me exhausted and wanting to crawl into bed. Then, the pain from the titanium hardware in my arm eliminated a couple of machines. My workouts went from 40 minutes to 15 minutes. Soon, my "Hi and Goodbye," to the staff happened so fast they were beginning to think I was a phantom.
When I embarked on this fiction journey, the story burned in my soul. My late husband and I worked out a schedule where I devoted every Wednesday to writing. Four months later, I held my completed first draft. Then life interrupted the flow of my creativity. All of the situations were valid, but they almost quenched the fire for my manuscript.
My feet were headed toward Quit City.
A talk with a trainer at the gym resulted in a plan evaluation. She worked out a new routine, which stopped the downhill slide. The sweeping changes motivated me to stay with the program.
Journaling through my late husband's illness kept the writing embers alive. When he rallied, one of the first things he did was encourage me to work on the book. He insisted I attend an upcoming writers' conference, saying it would do me good to take some time away from the daily pressures.
So, when the latest challenges threatened to sink my writing ship, I asked myself, "Where do I want to end up?" A change of routine, the support of others, and above all, prayer brought about renewed enthusiasm. Every worthy endeavor will hit stormy seas.
It's onward and upward toward Completion City.