I think limits are natural, and a defense mechanism. They keep us from doing something dangerous or stupid that could land us in, say, the hospital for, say, trying to leap from the second story of a building just to see what'll happen when we land.
But limits can be dangerous, too, I think.
For instance, I mentioned in my about page that I want to be athletic, but that I'd assumed for a long time it was something I couldn't expect for myself. Why? Because I had this notion that it was out of my reach; beyond my limits.
It's not like I'd ever actually attempted to be athletic and failed, though. And I certainly hadn't attempted it over and over and failed, the way you really should to understand that something is off-limits to you.
I just put a little wall between me and this thing, and I decided it wasn't worth trying to overcome (because, remember? I'm lazy).
So no more limits. Even when things get hard. Because if I establish limits, I establish the points at which I'm willing to give up.
- Practically speaking, it means I'm aiming for the stars with that 18% body fat goal (the lady athletes come in at between 14% and 20% body fat);
- practically speaking, it means I'm going to push harder when I'm ready to quit (Patrick and I did a 14-mile bike ride Sunday; I climbed hills with my butt *out* of the seat, even though I hate doing it);
- and practically speaking, it means on bad days, when I think having a bad day means I'm not good enough to make this work, I'm just gonna shut the fuck up and put that bullshit in its place.