“Come on, Grace. You can do it. Dig deep.”

Dig deep.

2 simple words yet in this scenario, with an abstract concept.

Feet can be coaxed to move faster.

Breathing can be instructed to be more regulated.

But where on earth does one start digging on a treadmill exactly?

The personal trainer doesn’t wait for philisophical resolutions. Inevitably, he gives the “speed” button a couple of taps, mercilessly increasing the pace.

“10”
Puff, puff…

“11”
Puff, grunt, puff, puff…

“12”
Jeeesus. Is he trying to kill me?

“13”
“Holy…” and I drop the F-Bomb.

A personal trainer is an ideal target to curse and throw derogatory terms at without any feelings of animosity thereafter.

13 is a massive sprint for little legs. Fast, furious and lungs are about to burst.

A quick minute interval before the pace comes back down again. A redeeming time to catch my breath and quickly wipe marble sized drops of sweat.

Soon enough, the clicks go back up again.

13 is still a challenge. But I’m more comfortable with it. I have more confidence to tackle it. And even during those daring moments, when I’m feeling a little cocky, that speed dial goes up even higher. Not for long. But enough to give me a whirling rush of extra endorphins; giving me a sense of achievement. Despite all the exhaustion, a reason to smile.

These little stints on the treadmill urge me to have fun again with that competitive side. A once proud element of my make up, has recently sadly been neglected.

If 2012 was a year of lost identities, 2013 might be about finding them – or at the least – be on a proactive look out.

If 2012 witnessed an imbalance of self-confidence and self-esteem, this brand new year just might be about be regaining an equibrilium. Maybe.

I’m not looking for resolutions, big goals or challenges for the new year because why should one stroke past midnight make a difference as to how much extra effort I need to be a better person?

For as long as I can remember, the years have always been about time frames and achievements. It’s tiring.

As important as success is, when is the chance to just soak it in and look back on it?

I like my pace of 13. And I’m glad someone helped me find it.

I know that soon enough, as my body becomes stronger, I’ll up the ante.

But it’ll all happen at my call. When it works well for me.

That’s when I’ll consciously, markedly dig deeper.