You’ve probably all heard the saying, “His mouth is writing checks his butt can’t cash.” I was thinking about that phrase this morning while getting my gear on early this morning for my run.
Last night I had sat down in the cozy warmth of my dining room with my robe and slippers on and I wrote out some goals for February and some to-dos for today. I wanted to make sure I was purposeful about starting Monday out on the right foot. I wrote a few things out and one of them was a three mile run in the morning.
It was pretty easy to write that to-do out last night. I was warm and full of motivation for the next day. I thought about how it would be getting up early, having some coffee, doing some reading and then heading out the door for a nice run.
This morning there wasn’t any more thinking about it, there was only doing it. Well, it was friggin’ cold outside and dark. I was inside with nice warm coffee and I thought to myself, my mind and hand wrote out a check that my body is going to have to cash. My mind was pretty keen on the idea but my body wasn’t too hip to it. I imagine it talking to my mind saying, “Real nice! Your ass gets to go for a ride up in that big ol’ cranium up there which is great for you but I actually have to do this work in the freezing friggin’ cold that your dumb ass came up with last night!”
It’s a pretty constant battle for me. My mind thinks of the things I really want to do and I know are good for me in a time of reflection and planning and then my body has to go along for the ride. I feel it’s not always too happy about it. Often my mind isn’t too keen on the great plans it came up with the day before either. That’s just the way it goes.
The good news is, I did get out the door this morning. I did go for a run even though it was dark and cold and icy. I feel better that I got it done. I’m not sure if the mind and body have completely made up yet but they will and life will go on.
Mind is the Master-power that moulds and makes, And Man is Miind, and evermore he takes The tool of Thought, and, shaping what he wills, Brings forth a thousand joys, a thousand ills: - He thinks in secret, and it comes to pass: Environment is but his looking-glass.
-James Allen - “As a Man Thinketh”