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Mad Mobility | Maybe it's faith.

There’s one thing I’m better at than you. But sure enough, I can’t believe I’m much better at anything else.
I’ve crushed a vertebrae, crushed a toe, inflamed tendons, tweaked a knee, a wrist, sprained the same ankle on multiple occasions and derailed my progress more than a handful of times. I remind you, none of these was doing anything remotely cool or athletic. I validate how I feel, assess the situation, proceed to connect with my partitioning team, and apply the principles to my rehabilitation. I know this will continue to happen no matter how perfect of a program I follow. I understand I have equipped myself with the tools to mitigate the incidents, and continue to learn to sort through what works and what doesn’t. I am content with the process. This allows me to approach my own foibles, and yours alike, with patience. This shit takes time, and should I continue to ask more from my body, I’m bound to breach the limits. I believe the body is resilient, and through the right stimulus will continue to improve. Even with more foibles along the way, I have an unquestionable faith in my continued progress. 
I can’t believe I’m much better at anything else.
I attempt to modify or temper some of my habits, but at some point, the real me comes out. The one that reminds me I haven’t changed a bit. I run into the same problems with the same people. I am faced with the same mistakes that have haunted me for the past three decades. I can’t help but wonder if I’ll ever get out of my own head. I’ve even noticed myself become more reclusive, even with the social demands of my environment. There’s a lot to be said for bottling up emotions. I’m in a constant battle between the idealistic dreamer that strives for some utopia, and the realist that grinds through the dirt, punching in and out of each day. I can understand why people connect to religion and the idea of god, and I value many aspects of what that provides them. Yet I can’t not recognize the general silliness that is organized religion and some of popularized concepts of spirituality. I can’t help but think that everything is on me. I am the cause. I am the result of my own actions. My inner conflict becomes so polarizing, I can’t identify what I actually believe. A beautiful struggle indeed, that leaves my faith wavering.
I can’t believe I’m much better at anything else.
So maybe it’s just that. Faith.
Faith is all around me, perhaps just not in the things I would hope.
I now believe I’m much better at everything else.
Coach Chesty

Emile Maxwell Connaughton