Thereâ€™s this moment where everything changes. I flip off my procrastination. I tell it we can have 10 more minutes, then weâ€™re going to the gym. Building new habits is never easy. Thereâ€™s moments where you scoot through smooth as butter, but then the slog hits. Cravings for the old way represent themselves as â€œsafeâ€ options, but hide the destruction theyâ€™ve done in past moments. The gym is never this way. It instead presents itself as this amazing alternative to sitting on the couch. But the gym presents itâ€™s own problems. Thereâ€™s too many things to do! Move! Stretch! Mobilize! Do all of this or suffer in your old age! Thereâ€™s so many options that a death grip is needed on my brain just to keep track of all the options. What shall we do? How shall we bash down this body? How shall we repay ourselves for these dietary choices over the past weeks, months, and years? But then my mind retreats. Thereâ€™s this focus as I pull out my training plan. I remember my coach programming extra things. I reach for the â€œshows up needs to do somethingâ€ day. I walk into the gym. I fistbump with my coach. I talk shit with coach about programming, crazy events, and then talk eventually goes to steroids. I proclaim that thereâ€™s never any way Iâ€™d do it...even though Iâ€™m jealous of their results. Iâ€™d love that...but then I realize that Iâ€™m happy with getting results au naturel. Steroids are easy. Procrastination thinks this is a great option, but I flip it off again and do my work. On the way home, an icy fire burns. Itâ€™s my heart, proclaiming that hard work is worth it. It stays with me, reminding me that everything is worth doing right. That my determination conquers all.