As parents. we often talk about disciplined children.  But are we? Monkeys see, monkeys do. It ain’t easy.

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It may come as a surprise to many who know me: I don’t enjoy going for my daily yoga class. It has a lot to do with being indoors in a stuffy room when there is glorious sunshine or heavenly rain outside. But I still go.

As for boxing, I have a love-hate relationship with it. I dislike the mindless intensity, but enjoy the exhilaration of pitting my physicality against another person’s. I drag myself to the boxing gym a few times a week.

The only thing I truly love is running along the beach, up and down my beloved hills of Phuket. I also love running along Chelsea Embankment and the Serpentine. I have found that sweet collaborative spot between muscles, heart, lungs and mind with running. I could run for hours every day, if only there are enough hours in the day.

But I need to build upper body strength to support my heart (quantum medicine) and to balance the rest of my body.  I also need yoga for flexibility, to counterbalance my running. Nevertheless it is tough to get going on a daily basis. I mean, who would want to get up for something they do not enjoy doing, right? My perverse partner tells me to learn to find pleasure in the pain; I think it is more apt to say finding peace in the pain, which is something I seek to do.

So I set my timetable and stick to it. With great difficulty.

If you let something slide too far, it is hard to get it back. The time is now.

My inspiration, however, is my daughter. A few months ago, she lost her mojo for football. But she continued working diligently at this, never missing  a single training session and always giving her best. But I could sense a certain lack-lustreness in her performance. She soldiered on nevertheless.

Last week, at a tournament, her goal-scoring streak returned. She was the tournament’s highest scorer and we were so pleased we caught the flight over to watch her triumph! So yes, she is truly my inspiration. She taught me to keep trucking. There is a light at the end of the tunnel, a reason for doing this. Fake it till you make it ❤ If nothing else, your children are watching.

Related post: Fake it till you make it

Photo: my funky yoga teachers and I. It’s more bearable because of them.

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