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Before I dive into the meat-n-potatoes of today’s blog post a few #COVID19sucksdonkeyballs “quarantine” thoughts:
“Lost” vs. Pressing the Pause ButtonI’ve been seeing the same therapist since 2011. In that time we’ve worked on everything from finally addressing the fact my biological father left me when I was three to my proclivity to default to incessant negative self-talk to Michael Bay deciding to make more than one Transformers movie (and how scarring they have been). She’s helped me through some shit, to put it mildly. When we first started working together we met upwards of 1x per week for about a year (when shit was really going down). That was eventually “downgraded” to every other week for a while. And now we’re in a nice routine of once per month as a sort of “check-in” on life, business, and other shenanigans. Truthfully I’ve felt great for awhile now and have questioned whether or not I should even bother continuing to go. However, as tepid as I may be on going at times, I consider my therapy session(s) a stand-alone, non-negotiable appointment akin to getting my car’s oil changed every 5,000 miles, or, I don’t know, working out. It’s just what needs to be done to keep things running smoothly. As it happens, my most recent session served as a stark reminder of all of this. Stop it Michael Bay. STOP IT. FML. I left the States for Europe on February 26th. By that time the reality of Coronavirus had kinda-sorta started to take form here and had most certainly entered the day-to-day psyche of the average European.
Each day that passed there I saw more face masks in public, more people carrying hand sanitizer and keeping their distance, and more general unease. I flew back to the States on March 10th. Two days later the US had made the decision to implement travel bans while entire countries had started the process of shutting down completely. A week after that, a Thursday, was my first therapy session since the world had changed (and toilet paper seemingly existed). And boy-oh-boy did I unload on my therapist. Specifically, I made a razor sharp focus on how much I lost:
After 20-30 minutes of this I finally gave pause and my therapist made the time-out sign with her hands. She said simply:
NOTE: Now, of course, this wasn’t meant to imply there wasn’t substantial suffering and loss going on the world right then (and now). No one, least of all my therapist, was making light of the situation we’re all in. That said: Holy fuckin a – what a baller re-frame!Her words punched me in the kidney. It was exactly what I needed to hear and something I hope resonates for the bulk of fitness professionals who are reading. Like many of you I’ve vacillated between determination, fatalism, ennui, and just trying all I can do to clone anything that feels normal. The health/fitness industry – like many industries – has been decimated in recent weeks. There’s no sugar coating things. It’s bad. Thousands of us have been left to marinate in uncertainty, doubt, the unknown, and the feeling of inevitable loss. It’s not fun and it’s going to stick around for a while. But not forever. As cheesy and as impossible as it sounds… …the pause button has been pressed. For me this means:
Did what you just read make your day? Ruin it? Either way, you should share it with your friends and/or comment below.via Blog – Tony Gentilcore http://tonygentilcore.com/2020/03/lost-vs-pressing-the-pause-button/
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AuthorI have 5+ years experience working as a medical transcriptionist. When I am not working, I enjoy sports like playing basketball or judo. I love making friends and connections. Archives
April 2023
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