Floor Week

Floor Week

This morning I was supposed to hike 10km. Sat there looking at my shoes thinking about how much easier it would be to just sit on the couch and feel sorry for myself.

Because that's the mood I was in. That's where I'd been all week.

Went anyway. Did 11.5km. Don't know why I'm telling you that except it felt hard and I almost didn't.

This week was a small tsunami. Not the dramatic kind. The kind that starts as nothing and then just keeps coming. Things that normally come easy were hard. Things I usually enjoy did nothing.

Motivation disappeared first. Then confidence. Then self-esteem. By midweek I was deep in some of the old limiting beliefs I thought I'd dealt with years ago. I'm not good enough. I'm falling behind. This plan won't work. Everyone else has figured this out and I'm still pretending.

The kind of spiral that builds on itself until you're standing in your kitchen at 9 AM wondering why everything feels so heavy.

Instagram tells you this doesn't happen to people who have their shit together. That if you're struggling, you're doing it wrong. We're measuring ourselves against highlight reels and calling it reality.

But some weeks you're just low. Not because something happened. Not because you're broken. Just low.

And the low compounds. Energy drops so you skip the workout. Skip the workout so you feel worse. Feel worse so you stay up scrolling. Stay up scrolling so you're tired the next day. Around it goes until you're wallowing in it, telling yourself this is just how it is this week, might as well ride it out.

I knew if I went on that hike I'd have to spend time in my own head. Which is usually good. But this morning I didn't want good. I wanted to sit in the self-pity a little longer. Wanted to stay in the narrative I'd been building all week about how hard everything is.

I think about goals with a ceiling and a floor now. Ceiling is what you're aiming for when everything clicks. Floor is what you can live with on your worst day.

This was a floor week.

Trained, but lighter. Worked, but fewer hours. Showed up, but barely. Nothing worth mentioning. Nothing that felt like progress. But I didn't stop completely. Didn't spend the week complaining while doing nothing. Didn't give the spiral permission to take over entirely.

Most people go all or nothing. Either crushing it or collapsing entirely. But there's this other space where you're moving but barely. Where it counts even though it doesn't feel like it counts.

That hike this morning was floor. It counted. Did I feel better after? Yes. Clearer head. Less weight. Something shifted out there. Always happens.

The week is still the week. The struggle is still there. But I found whatever it was I needed to make a different choice. To stop riding it out and start moving through it.

Some weeks you hit the ceiling. Other weeks you scrape the floor. Both are part of building something that doesn't fall apart the moment you feel low.

I don't know if next week will be different. Might be. Might not. But the floor is what I'll protect. Because the floor is what keeps you in the game.

This was a floor week. The kind where the small tsunami rolls through and you let it, but you don't let it take you under completely. The kind where you feel the pull of the self-pity and the limited beliefs, but you lace up your shoes anyway.

Not because you're strong. Because you know what happens if you don't.

Next week might be a ceiling week. This week wasn't. Both matter.

That's all I've got.

That's it for this week Reader.

I'm not sharing this for sympathy - nothing's wrong, everything's perfectly fine. Just leaning into the different versions of being human. And if you're feeling it too this week, you're not alone in it.

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Have a great week and stay safe.

And as always, don't forget to be awesome.