I’m in the thick of what they call “the hustle season.”
So deep in it there hasn’t been much left over for me to ideate, create, and write.
Ironically, I just ranted a little over a month ago about how I needed to better prioritize my creative “me” time with writing and podcasting. But since then, it’s been nothing but project deadline after project deadline.
Let me start by saying, I’m not complaining. If anything, I’m relishing in this hustle season.
I could say I’m embarrassed, disappointed, and bummed my last business IG post was on January 10th. Or that my last newsletter was sent on January 12th. Or that my last podcast was on November 30th 💀
But I could also tell you that I’ve been so zoned in on my client work (and life) that all of that embarrassment or disappointment in my lack of creation dissipates when I start running down the list of projects, clients, and opportunities I’m receiving and working on.
Call me crazy for leaning fully into this hustle season when I’m only 78 days out from my wedding and, as always, wearing all my mom hats in the thick of spring school activities and sports season, but what can I say? I like to live life on the edge of balanced procrastination and a dose of psychotic commitment.
Speaking of psychotic commitment… I did something wild recently. 1000% outside of my comfort zone. And who better to share it with to keep me accountable than my readers?
Before I share what this wildly impromptu thing is, let me give you some background in case you’re new around here.
I was never an athlete growing up. Zilch. Zero. Nada.
The closest thing I ever did to sports was dance team (and yes we can argue that cheer/dance is a sport but, for the sake of this conversation, I’m not considering it as a sport at the level I did it. I wasn’t a competitive cheerleader doing insane tumbling tricks or a ballerina dancing on stages for hours.)
I grew up in a family of artists, creatives, dance club owners, sales reps, and social butterflies. Sports? Not our thing. But ensuring people have a good time and entertaining them along the way? Totally our thing.
Although I’ve been 5 foot 9 since about 5th grade, my family has always joked that my height, my naturally muscular legs, my enormous arm span, oh and my ungodly size 10 feet all went to waste from an athletic perspective.
Our running household joke was and still is, “Taylor, you should join the swim team with those flippers!!”
The non-existent athleticism in my family always tickled me as my mom would remind me she failed P.E. in high school. Who fails P.E.?!
Fast-forward to college when I had to take a kinesiology class for my associate’s degree which simply required so many hours clocked into the campus gym along with a test or two on basic kinesiology/exercise concepts. I was a straight-A student my entire life until this class was the first B I ever got 😂
So I’m not lying when I say, I am was not an athlete.
Before college, I had a short stint of vegetarianism for a few years which led to veganism for about a year which then led to a year-long dabble in kickboxing classes. I thought I was in SHAPE.
(Sure I was in shape… if you’re comparing me to a limp spaghetti noodle with zero tone and muscle mass, but that’s neither here nor there.)
It wasn’t until the year my son was born in 2019 that I first discovered weight-lifting.
I 100% attribute this discovery to my fiancé. He exposed me firsthand to this intricate world of weightlifting, bodybuilding, powerlifting, and everything in between.
In a matter of months, after my son was born, I went from the hardest workout in my life being a cheer routine to all of a sudden picking up barbells with 150+ lbs. and binge-watching Mark Bell videos on Youtube.
I didn’t pick it up because I thought it was cool, or fun, or because I had always wanted to become athletic. I leaned into it because, for the first time in my life, I felt extremely disconnected and unhappy with my physical body.
(We all know pregnancy and birth can do that to you.)
I also distinctly remember the number of conversations, comments, and opinions during my pregnancy that sounded like,
“Your body will never be the same again after birth!”
“Pregnancy wrecked me!”
“You’ll never fit into your pre-baby jeans again.”
As a 24-year-old at the time of giving birth, I thought to myself,
“Is this my reality? I’ll never feel as confident, sexy, or strong as I did before 24?!”
It made me sad. And then I realized that didn’t have to be my narrative at all.
(I’m still bitter about the amount of pre-baby clothes I donated thinking I’ll never be able to wear them again. RIP to all my early 20s credit card debt that funded my pre-baby wardrobe.)
2019-2020 was a world of discovery for me. I explored keto and carnivore diets. I worked out almost every single day. I lost over 75lbs. I added hundreds and hundreds of lbs. to my maxes. I binged any and all information I could find about getting strong AF. And by 2021, I had competed in a powerlifting competition.
Sure I didn’t join an adult intermural team or begin a streak of competing, but by definition, I officially was an athlete.
I was finally done with the small jokes that I wasn’t cut out for exercise, or the self-deprecating comments about my incoordination, or lack of skill for my sizable feet.
For the first time, I found myself thinking, “I’m a fucking athlete!!”
Take it up with the dictionary…
The American Heart Association defines an athlete as someone who participates in organized sports that require regular competition against others. Athletes also value excellence and achievement and require some form of systematic training, usually intense.
An organized sport complete with a federation? ✅
Intense, systematic training? ✅
Competing against others? ✅
Valuing excellence and achievement? ✅
Do some more fast-forwarding through the rest of 2021-2023, and my journey had its ups and downs. I lost weight, I gained weight, I got stronger, I got injured, I explored different training styles, and all of it came to a head this past fall when I finally found myself saying,
“I want to run???”
The most I had ever run was a 1-mile jog around the pond during my kickboxing stint and the laps I’d be punished with during my high school cheer practices for talking too much with my bestie 😂
But like most things, my fiancé’s admirable qualities seem to rub off on me.
Like watching him dive headfirst into his running era over the past few years as he worked his way up to 10 miles, then cheering him on as he passed his finish lines for half marathons, then 15 miles and 20, and finally, crossing the finish line of his first full marathon (26.1 miles) in just 4 hours and 45 minutes this past month.
Inspired was an understatement.
Running felt foreign? Hard? PSYCOTIC?!
But being the tough-loving, self-betterment-obsessed, results-driven person I am, the challenge was alluring.
I started casually throwing myself into running – a few miles here, a few miles there. By no means would I call myself a runner, until a few weeks ago when I made a bold and courageous decision.
I signed up for my first half marathon with only a few months of running under my belt. 😳
When I clicked “pay” at checkout and saw the countdown for less than 2 months, I felt my stomach drop.
There are only two outcomes with this: I’m either going to cross that finish line or I’m going to die a slow death in that race. 😆
But you might be asking the question I asked myself before I spent $100+ on a race sign-up for me and my man (and yes he’s going to run with me, and no he probably will not stick with my pace because yes he’s lightyears ahead of me in this whole running/athlete thing)…
The question was, “Why?”
Why sign up for a half marathon? Why now? Why EVER? Why running?!?
Trust when I’ve asked myself this 10x and have done some deep soul-searching while running my recent 7 & 8-mile runs, and the answer is damn near the exact reason why I love the seasons of business hustle…
There’s always growth in the uncomfortable.
Pushing yourself beyond your limits? Uncomfortable AF. Both in your expertise, your work, your creative endeavors, and your physical goals.
There is something fascinating, addicting, and fucking rewarding when you get to a place where you have two options:
1) You can give up, throw in the towel, and return to the ‘comfortable’ or
2) you can push through, mentally and physically, beyond the grit, beyond the pain, beyond the uncomfortable, to find yourself better and stronger than you were before.
I experienced this transformation when I pushed my way through the hustle and quite literally sacrificed time, sanity, and tears to build my business.
I experienced this when I overcame my fear and doubt when I got in front of that crowd to push and pull weights heavier than my body weight.
Now, I’m experiencing it again as I run to a place I’ve never been, seeing a prize beyond the pain, beyond the uncertainty, beyond the uncomfortable.
And I know on the other side is a better me waiting to greet me.
You’d be shocked at what your body and mind can handle when you commit to reaching the other side, when you finally leave complacency and comfort at the door and pick up your shoes to discover what you’re capable of.
Be honest with me. When was the last time you pushed past your comfort zone and saw through it till the end?
When was the last time you committed to something you knew was going to test your limits, your sanity, or maybe even your physical endurance?
Will running 13.1 miles be easy this first go-round? Absolutely not.
Will I most likely regret it midway through? Probably so.
Will I cross the finish line and find myself better, stronger, and more confident in my commitment to do hard things? Definitely yes.
I’m not telling you to go run a half marathon, or hustle your heart out, or all of a sudden expect yourself to become the next Guinness world record holder.
I AM telling you to get uncomfortable. Do something you’re not 100% certain you can do. Take yourself to a place that requires a new level of perseverance, dedication, and mental toughness you’re not familiar with to see it through.
Each time you do this, you’ll be more and more capable than you were before.
And who knows? Maybe you’ll be the next Boston marathon finisher.
Or maybe you’ll just be a more fulfilled and proud version of yourself.
The people out there doing the hard things are just that, people, like you and me.
So for now, I’m going to ask you to do something uncomfortable this week, this month, and this year. And if you’re the kind who likes to share, reply back and let me know what you’re committing to.
I’ll cheer you on along the way, as long as you promise to keep me in your thoughts on race day on March 24, 2024. I’ll need all the strength I can get.
See you at the finish line!!
Show yourself some love today,
You’ve earned it.
As always,
Taylor Torres
Hi, I'm Taylor Torres, accidental adulting expert and purveyor of all things unhinged. When I'm not navigating the rollercoaster of the real world, you can find me dishing out a weekly dose of humor, heart, and a dash of TMI right here in this little corner of the internet.
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