After our big move out to the suburbs of Kapolei, settling into our new home began to take over much of my time, as there were still little projects to be done here and there. The iron that called to me constantly began to die out, the voice that brought me into Kaka'ako at 11 pm at night became a weak and feeble thirst to train. Soon, it was all but gone.
I have to remember why I chose this life. Why I chose to live better. Why I chose to become faster, stronger, healthier. Why I wanted to push myself body, mind, and spirit. I have to remember the health risks inherent in my genetics, the joint issues that plague so many as they age and become unable to play with their children. I have to remember what it means to train: to draw a line that is only just out of reach, and then challenge oneself to simply not step over it, but leap beyond by an immeasurable distance.
There are no excuses. There can be none. Not if I want to achieve what I set out to do a year ago. I do not expect anyone to do it for me, nor do I expect anyone to give me that push. It must come from within. It must come now.
And that is why, nearly six months of no training, I am writing this. To bring forth the not-so-old me that feels already ancient and vintage.
That "next time," is this time. I must keep grinding.
