I turned 36 yesterday.

I also finished my 100th workout.
Leg day, again. It’s a pattern, I guess.

Sometimes it feels like I’m always starting over. Always chasing something. Slowing down is something I say I want, but when I’m in it... when I’m doing the thing... I usually end up rushing again. Trying to get somewhere. Trying to skip the middle part.

And I think that panic.. the constant need to do something is part of the problem. Or maybe it’s the shield.

But I do love the calm after the doing. That post-workout clarity. After the torture, after the noise. It’s quieter. Slower. It feels like mine.

I grew up in a house that didn’t have a lot of emotional steadiness. My parents loved me, but they were as lost as I was. A lot of chaos.

So I made my room a kind of sanctuary. Pro Wrestling and Horror movies constantly playing. The comfort of knowing the monsters and bad guys were safely contained on the screen. I liked being alone in my room. I liked the quiet. I liked the predictability.

Maybe that’s still what I’m chasing.

Body image still gets to me and I feel myself trying to rush through the process of weight loss or working out. Some days I feel inadequate, or angry that I still have weight to lose. Like I’ve failed at something. But that’s not the truth. The truth is I don’t have to do any of this. I want to.

I want to feel stronger. I want to feel calm in my body. I want to live inside my life, not rush through it. Slowing down just feeling what’s here without needing to fix it is probably my lifelong goal.

I want to slow down through the tough, scary times, and the great, joyful ones. Both deserve my attention. Both deserve my presence.

I want to slow down for my kiddos.
I want to slow down for my wife.
I want to slow down for my friends and the films were working on together.
I want to slow down and be here for all of it.

I want to slow down.

It's the broken record I keep coming back to. Maybe one day it won’t just be a reminder.