No matter how hard the challenge, tall the mountain or rough the course, I seem to be willing to grit my teeth, grunt, sweat and otherwise behave in a manner unbecoming a lady. I’m not sure what I am becoming but I know I’m working hard to get there.
In the last six months I’ve been on and off the exercise wagon. I’m now engaged in Beachbody Insanity. And running and bicycling and swimming. Not all at the same time, mind you, but I’m pushing myself every day to do something.
I’ve also been hard at work, off and on, refining my novel. I joined a Novel-In-Progress group and have read/critiqued 25 page submissions from other novelist wannabes twice-a-month for months. Meanwhile, I’ve produced multiple revisions of the novel. I thought I was in pretty good shape.
Two weeks ago I submitted a 5-page probe to my NIP group. Yesterday I gathered feedback and I must say, it’s a lot like trying to zip up a pair of jeans and realizing the progress is not quite what you thought. Ugh.
Now I sit and stare at the comments and I know: I have to put on the workout music and steel myself for another session of sweating and grunting and perhaps a bit of whimpering and maybe a lot of whining. There’s no doubt that most of the feedback is very, very helpful and I trust that it is all well-intentioned. I’m determined to not give up.
The reality is that I’m not done. I need to keep exercising and developing the muscle tone and endurance of an experienced athlete/author. That doesn’t come without effort. It’s the discipline, faith, perseverance and hard work that will eventually carry me across the finish line.