Discipline — Show Your Face

I have been told over and over, by all kinds of people over the years, that I am sooo disciplined. I gave them the response that I always give: "I am not disciplined. Having discipline is doing something you don't want to do, simply because you see the end result as favorable. I do what I do because I feel better doing it than not doing it."

The point is, I enjoy the process even more than the destination. I much prefer the structure and routine of prep phases over standing on stage and winning.  The day of the show is almost anti-climactic to me. I find it boring, exhausting, not very fun, and I usually am just wanting to get the day over with -- win, lose or draw.

However, this last week I had to fall back on discipline and I rarely have to do this. Things are still going well, and I am progressing. Hell, I am putting up most of the same poundages that I was during my peak weeks of prep, but only on TRT right now. My condition is slipping but slowly. I am still in pretty good condition but gaining scale weight. My muscles feel full all of the time, I am not depleted and hungry, and I generally feel pretty good vs. being lethargic or run down. Still, it's a the psychological component that is getting to me.

Of course, I am still recovering from my hip (glute medius partial rupture) injury, but my leg workouts are good considering the circumstances. I get huge pumps, am progressing weights and/or reps, and keeping my legs trained and progressing even while dealing with the hip recovery.

Bitch is, I am just battling in my head with being on TRT and unable to train balls out right now, for fear that I will re-injure myself.  One of the main things is helping to keep me focused is the leg training. I have 2 options for legs:

1. train in the limited fashion I am right now to build the quad and ham strength so that when I come back 100% in 6-7 weeks, I will be starting ahead of the game vs if I didn't train legs, at all, while my hip is recovering.

2. Sit back on the couch and eat pizza and Mountain Dew (diet, of course), and turn into a fat fuck.

Using option #1, I am simply forcing myself to get solid workouts.

I can't say I'm not enjoying the sessions, but I can say that I know that I'm not really getting anywhere right now due to my injury involving my weakest link. It's a struggle to stay at it hard and stay locked in, but I'm doing it. I don't WANT to do it, but I AM doing it. This is only due to being disciplined -- right now, my focus is less on the journey and enjoying it, and more on the destination of getting through these next 6 weeks of recovery for my hip.

I like the progress, but I admit to loathing the process right now. I know, I know, I can here them now, "If you were more passionate about your gains, you would have no problem." I always enjoy getting advice from someone who hasn't trained 1/3 of the time that I have. It's REALLY appreciated. It's like someone making 60k and then pretending they know how to motivate me to make 400k. Stay in your wheelhouse, bruh.

The longer you train, the more likely that these types of situations will play out -- they almost have to. You can't train for a long time and expect that focus and loving what you do will always make what we do, effortless and "easy." Most know that I am locked in 99%  of the time, but as soon as I hit that 1%, people can't understand why. 

I will push through -- like I always do. Keep in mind that even with a partial rupture in my glute, a massive hematoma in my quad, and loaded up with 4 antibiotics (including Bactrim), I was still locked in until it became brutally obvious that I simply could not train. It was not from a lack of psychological fortitude; but rather from digging deep and having the discipline to fight through even while not knowing what the outcome would be. 

I will get through, and I will continue to train and progress over the next 7 weeks before I take a break for a week to see my kids in Colorado and then get back to 100% training the following week. I will dig into my leg training like a fucking maniac (though a calculated one) and make big strides with my legs over the next year while staying relatively lean and as insulin sensitive as I can possibly be. This will not take discipline, but right now, it most certainly does.

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