The floor and I remain in a committed long distance relationship.
Splits Chronicles continues, fueled by a slightly unhinged level of optimism and a very specific deadline: I have decided (with confidence that may or may not be justified) that I will be doing a full split before the Croatia Alchemy on the Adriatic Retreat this September.
Nothing like committing to a deeply humbling physical challenge ahead of an epic journey to the Adriatic coast. Because obviously, when one plans a transformative, soul-nourishing retreat in Croatia, the logical next thought is, “Yes, but can I dramatically lower myself toward the ground beforehand?” The answer remains unclear, but the journey is providing excellent material.
At this point, I’d like to report measurable progress… but instead, I report that I’m still very much hovering. I stretch, I breathe, I show up with determination, optimism, and occasionally an unreasonable amount of confidence. And yet, I remain suspended somewhere between “almost there” and “is this just my life now?”
Every session begins with a wee bit of hope and a smidge of hesitation. Every session ends with me hovering above the ground, negotiating with my hamstrings like a hostage mediator. I’ve started to wonder what the people at the gym think, because from the outside it must look like I’ve absolutely lost my marbles. There I am, voluntarily lowering myself into visible discomfort, whispering things like, “Okay, okay, we’re safe, we’re safe,” to my inner thighs.
No one has said anything yet, but I see the glances. The unspoken, “Is she okay?”
And honestly? Am I okay? Debatable.
Because training to do a split is really a psychological journey disguised as a flexibility goal. It’s not just your body resisting, it’s your ego, your patience, your deeply held belief that effort should equal immediate results.
But here’s the plot twist I didn’t expect: even though I don’t feel closer to the ground, I do feel closer to surrender. Closer to accepting that progress sometimes looks like microscopic, invisible shifts. And maybe… just maybe… the floor is getting closer.
Until next time, still hovering……