I'm a soaked half-corpse that the security guard recoils from

A lot of mezcal, 4 AM, rain. A based Friday by all accounts, but my morning plan says run first, then gym.

Morning. By every textbook of athletic performance, the day should have been written off, and by my personal textbooks, I should have been. My brain helpfully slides me arguments to skip: rain, resting heart rate 95, head running at maybe 30%.

But I get up, pull on the sneakers, run out, and the rain turns into a downpour. 400 meters in I'm soaked down to my underwear, and the gym is 8 km away. The security guard who usually scans my bag is too disgusted to come close and just silently stares. Then the workout: 60% of my working weight, no squats, and mid-set my Whoop politely asks whether I might need a doctor. I leave after 45 minutes instead of the planned 90.

I open Strava and consider making the workout private, so it doesn't ruin my stats.

Wait. Am I really about to hide the one workout this month that actually proves anything about me?

Every action is a vote for the person you're slowly becoming. Am I a person who trains, or a person who trains when it's convenient? Those are two different people..

All my clean sessions (slept well, breakfast, coffee, motivation at 8/10) are the baseline, they prove nothing. The soaked half-corpse the security guard recoils from is the vote that builds identity.

P.S. I didn't hide the entry. That was a vote too :)))