I wiped out at Renfest.
No, I don’t mean the part where I faceplanted in the middle of a form. That was a classic comedy moment followed by an immediate, badass recovery. In short, not a wipe out. It was awesome.
In the process of focusing all my attention on mastering Form 7, I blew my sleep schedule, my diet, my exercise routine, my scheduling… I lost all the ground I had gained in the prior several months. (Though I only gained back five of the fifteen pounds I lost, so that was something…)
Then, during my awesome moment at Renfest, I also sprained my foot. After a couple of days, I could walk on it, but the sucker still hurts. (The nurse says that’s normal, call back if it’s still painful after two months, and make sure to walk a lot to help it heal faster).
I also got a stomach bug and, subsequently, a respiratory illness which kept me from training and kept me out of class for two weeks.
So, that all sucks. How do I fix it?
- I won’t fix it all at once. When I look at all the ground I’ve lost, the thought of leaping that distance in a single bound is enough to make a man give up hope. So I pick one thing. I choose diet. I’ll do that first because it seems to make the biggest, baddest difference in my mood. Then I’ll get my exercise back in.
- I won’t fix it all at once. Once my mood is through the roof again, I will have to consciously move slow. I bit off more than I could chew with the high-velocity Form 7. Each time I start a new project, I will ask my wife and the Sword God, both of whom have a better idea of my limits than I, if this sounds like something I can handle. That’s the ironclad rule: No moving forward without their input. Period.
- I will fix it. I count my epic faceplant as a win because it didn’t stop me. If I took that pratfall in a real fight, would I be dead? Probably. But not certainly. Because I sprang up and finished the fight.
- It will make me more awesome than I would have been without the fall. I know something more about my limits. To extend my limits, I must push them to the breaking point, without pushing them past the breaking point. I can do that better now than I ever did before I crashed and burned.
The fall was inevitable. I was going to push too hard sooner or later. But if I’d gone farther, I would have lost more. In both cases, I learn to do better next time. In this case, I get my lesson with a small setback instead of an enormous one.
I went out today and went through my forms. I kinda sorta still know them. I’m behind my nerd bros on a lot of training. Tonight’s going to suck like a carpet-cleaning competition.
But I got this.