Day 22: The Hard Days Count Too

A Rough Start

Okay, so today is day 22, and let me be honest, it started rough. I woke up sore, tired, and absolutely drained. My whole body was protesting in unison, a cacophony of aches and discomforts that made it difficult to even turn over in bed. I had zero motivation to get out of bed; the thought of facing the day felt overwhelmingly daunting. The only thing I wanted was to roll over and sleep again, to clutch the warmth of my blankets and retreat into a cozy oblivion. But deep down, beneath the layers of reluctance and fatigue, I knew what I had to do. I’ve got a dream, and dreams don’t care about how you feel in the morning, they demand action and commitment, regardless of how I might be feeling.

With a heavy sigh, I got ready quickly, no breakfast, no time. Each movement felt like a chore, but my mind was focused. I ran straight to the bus, my heart racing not just from exertion but from a mix of nerves and anticipation. Thankfully, I made it just in time for my 6 a.m. boxing session. My body wasn’t ready, it protested vocally at the idea of movement, but my mind dragged it there anyway, pushing through the fatigue with sheer will. Sometimes, showing up is the true victory against the internal battles we face.

Rope, Sweat, and Frustration

We kicked off with rope jumping, the rhythmic sound of the rope slicing through the air filling the room. Despite the exhaustion weighing down on me like a heavy blanket, I surprised myself, I managed to hit 45 jumps. Three weeks ago, I couldn’t even spin the rope without tripping, my coordination not yet aligned with the skill required. Now, I’m consistent, landing multiple sets of 20s, 30s, and even the elusive 40s. I didn’t beat my record of 49 jumps today, but I’m getting closer with every single session.

It’s not just about perfection anymore; it’s about steady progress. Each jump feels like a testament to my dedication, my will to overcome the struggles. My new goal? Reach 100 consecutive jumps, fast and sharp, without losing my rhythm. Once I hit that milestone, I’ll transition to more advanced variations, incorporating new challenges that will push me further. It’s funny how something that used to frustrate me now fuels me, driving my ambitions forward like a powerful motor.

After the rope, we moved into shadowboxing, alternating rounds filled with quick bursts of energy, following up with more rope sessions, four cycles in total. Then came the bag work: freestyle punches, crunches, pushups, squats, and burpees, a brutal mix of cardio and strength that had me gasping for breath. Each punch against the bag was a release, a way to channel all my frustrations into something productive, almost therapeutic.

We ended with planks, the instructor guiding us as we switched from forearms to knuckles, back and forth. My arms were trembling by the end, my lungs burning, and honestly, my heart wasn’t fully in it today. The physical exertion felt like a battle against my own limitations. My knuckles hurt badly; the pain lingering from previous sessions hadn’t healed yet. Each punch felt like fire, searing through the focus I was trying to maintain.

I later did some research: knuckle bruises can take up to two weeks to heal. Time to be smarter, I’ll switch to a better wrap and get heavier gloves for better protection moving forward. My current pair is way too light for all the bag work I've been putting in, and it’s starting to show. It’s crucial to protect my hands; they are my tools, my instruments for growth and improvement.

Performance-wise, it was my worst session yet. I was half-asleep, drained, and mentally somewhere else, floating in a fog that seemed to blur my focus. But still, I showed up. That’s what matters when the chips are down; the act of persevering, going against the tide of fatigue and self-doubt, is itself a triumph.

Midday Reset

After training, I went straight home and crashed like a fallen tree, exhausted from the morning’s efforts. I didn’t even eat breakfast, so I desperately needed the rest and recuperation. When I finally woke up, I took my cold shower, a bit later than usual, and finally had a proper meal around noon. The food fueled my body, but I still felt sluggish, the remnants of fatigue clinging to me like a second skin.

I wanted to attend Muay Thai from 8 to 10 p.m., but life had other plans in store for me. My teaching duties had caught up with me, exams are looming in two weeks, and we were just informed of the new schedule. The burden felt heavy on my shoulders as I barely recovered from the last round of grading, and now it’s starting all over again, piling on my mental workload.

So, instead of training, I spent my evening preparing exams, correcting homework, and organizing lesson plans. The clock ticked relentlessly, stealing precious time I could have spent honing my skills. And to top it off, there’s a parent-teacher meeting on Monday evening, right during my stretching time, cutting into the rhythm I’ve worked so hard to establish. That’s another blow to my training week, each obstacle adding more weight to my already burdened shoulders.

But it’s part of the deal. Teaching pays the bills; training feeds the soul. I just have to balance both, no excuses. In this chaotic dance between responsibilities, I’ve learned that adaptability is crucial; it’s a skill I need to refine as I juggle both worlds.

The Grind Behind the Scenes

Today, I also had to handle another administrative step for my Saudi Iqama, verifying my phone number and moving forward with my Iqama registration. It’s a tedious process, time-consuming, and requires in-person visits, which eats into my precious schedule. Still, it’s something I need to get done before I can set up a bank account and credit card, things that will undeniably make daily life smoother and easier to navigate.

By night, I didn’t finish everything I planned, but I made real progress. Not the best day by any measure, but a productive one nonetheless. Some days, you don’t win every round, you just keep standing, keep fighting, and that’s what counts in the grand scheme of things.

Reflection

Today reminded me that discipline isn’t about doing your best when you feel good; it’s about showing up when you don’t. My body was begging me to quit, my mind was flooded with excuses and distractions, but I kept going. I pushed through the haze of doubt. That counts; that resilience matters in the long run.

Not every session will be great, and not every day will be productive. But every single effort; every step, every rep, every punch; still moves me closer to my goal. And like Alex Pereira said, “I’m not going back to the tire shop.” Neither will I, once I’ve set my sights on something, the determination is unshakeable.

I’m doing this to build something bigger than myself, to fight against the odds, to evolve not just as an athlete but as a person, to prove to myself that I can push beyond my limits and become the best version of myself.

Day 22 complete. Not my best day, but still one step forward. The grind continues, and I embrace each moment of the journey.

👉 What about you? How do you handle days when your motivation hits zero? Do you push through, take a needed rest, or find another way to keep moving forward? Share your experiences; every story counts and helps us grow together.