Working out, working in.
So much of a workout is about working in.
By that I mean facing down whatever inner demons are lurking about to wreak havoc with the flow of your energy at any given moment as you push out from yourself to pound the pavement, pound a heavybag or work through the defenses of an opponent.
Often that process means letting yourself get out the way of what it is you’re trying to accomplish so that you can do it at all – analogous to someone in your corner shouting “let your hands go,” only in this case it’s yourself screaming from within impeding your ability to let loose until something snaps and you can.
That knot, that little twist that seems to kink things off can be the difference between gaining and losing. Finding your way to moment-to-moment accomplishment versus feeling choked off from where you want to go.
Where it hurts most is in the ring. Rather then feeling your opponent to know how best to move your body — as brilliant an improvisational pas-de-deux as ever one could hope for — somewhere the knot kicks in to stultify movement and telegraph the huge boom of the ego that is the difference between sensing your opponent’s weaknesses so that each movement flows to a perfect place and landing on the canvas because you’re looking for things rather than doing things.
I’m not sure if I had one of those days or not — or why this comes to mind; probably it’s because I’m finding myself getting closed off for unaccountable reasons, which when I stop and let go, flow out of me so that I’m in a place of calm again.
Whatever it is — letting it go can be as easy as just getting out of one’s own way by doing something to jolt the system; say singing out loud or maybe throwing on some salsa to dance part of the night away.
Girlboxing 
