The Bonfire

The past few weeks have been a mixed bag for me. During many of my workouts my energy level has been low and I've felt sluggish. My form is solid but some of my workouts have been a huge struggle to complete. Getting out of bed in the morning to workout has been tough. My mental guard has come down as well. Now I realize that that came first and the rest followed.....

A few nights ago I had a dream. Dennis was sitting comfortably on a lawn chair in front of a fire roasting marshmallows and looking content. For those who don't know Dennis, he's my left side shoulder angel. The dark one. The fire was high, the flames prolific. A huge raging bonfire blazing brightly and belching noxious foul smelling fumes. The odd thing was that it gave off no heat. It seemed only to consume, not produce.

A long way off in the distance there was another much smaller fire. It sputtered and sparked like a flame drowning in wax at the bottom of a candle. After a bit I realized that it wasn't off in the distance after all. It was actually the same distance away as the other bonfire. It was just small and weak in comparison.

I looked back at Dennis' fire and noticed him occasionally reaching down and throwing in crumpled bits of paper. There were piles of them scattered around. A few blew around my ankles and I bent to read them. "I'm not going to be able to finish." "I can't do this anymore - what's the point?" "I'm getting to old for this." "You're going to injure yourself and end up in a chair for the rest of your life."

I thought back to my recent workouts. These and scores more like them were the very thoughts that drifted through my head during the hardest moments. These thoughts were feeding the bonfire of negativity.

I look from the bonfire to the other fire. A match in comparison to the raging inferno next to it. "I should feel this way - my training plan is supposed to be tough." A little scrap of paper materializes and drifts into the little fire. The little fire sputters as it consumes the paper and then grows a little brighter. I feel a little stronger. "I can do this. I will do this." The little flame is definitely getting brighter now. I can feel it's warmth begin to creep in.

Dennis' marshmallow falls off his stick. He curses and looks up at me. He shrugs, gets up, and drifts back into the dark corners he loves so well.

The raging bonfire begins to falter. Fewer scraps of paper feed it now. In time it will be reduced to a smoldering pile. It will never really go out - it will lay smoldering, waiting to be fed again by scraps of negativity.

I intend to keep it starved.