Going The Extra Mile

Over the past few days, I’ve walked two miles each day. My goal has been to increase my energy and improve my sleep and appetite. Oddly enough, while I’ve felt mentally and emotionally challenged, I’ve also felt physically recharged. As I walked, I noticed that after one mile, my mind told me I had done enough, but my body wasn’t tired. I’ve been sitting with that disconnect. Why did I want to stop, even when my body had more to give?

I think it comes down to past experiences and childhood conditioning, especially the tension between mental expectations and physical ability. Somewhere along the way, I developed internal set points that told me a certain amount of effort was “enough.” Growing up, I learned that achieving a specific goal was sufficient, and going past that point could lead to failure or burnout. This mindset still shows up today, especially in my creative work. I’ve been in the flow of painting before, adding details, deep in it, only to overwork a piece or get stuck on one area, leaving the rest undone.

There’s also a part of me I call “the villain,” inspired by Vanessadomslife on TikTok. This is the version of myself aligned with self-sabotage, especially when I’m near emotional breakthroughs. Self-sabotage may have been a survival strategy, a way to protect myself from judgment or harm. It helped me once, but now it holds me back. When I push myself physically through walking or making art, my body thrives, but my mind struggles. My mental limits aren’t lining up with my physical strength.

I think back to when I was younger, riding my bike as fast as I could. My ponytail would fly back, my shirt would flap in the wind, and I felt free. The only thing that ever slowed me down was the wind or my mom’s voice yelling at me to slow down before I got hurt. But I never got hurt from riding fast, only when someone else, like my brother, interfered. There was no disconnect between body and mind when it was just me and my bike. But those warnings, those fears, stuck with me, even though the danger wasn’t from my own pace.

Now, I realize I’m carrying a secondhand fear of progress. It is not rooted in my own experiences, but in the fears other people handed to me.

So how do I move through this? How do I push past those mental blocks and encourage myself to keep going, even when the voices from the past try to stop me?

That belief that pushing past a certain point leads to pain or criticism needs rewriting. Instead of stopping short, I can try on new thoughts like, “My old limits don’t reflect who I am now. I’m capable of more. I can keep going without burning out.” But let’s be real, those kinds of affirmations only work when my actions align with them.

If experiences shape belief, and beliefs shape who I am, then I can create better experiences. I can lean into the voice that says, “It’s safe to go a little further. I trust my body.” I can show up in ways that prove it’s safe to stretch beyond where I’ve stopped before.

I can also challenge the discomfort of going the extra mile, of feeling unworthy or afraid of the unknown. When I picture success, I think of that moment on my bike, pedaling hard, confident in my direction, with joy and freedom in my chest. I didn’t feel burnt out. I felt strong.

That’s what I want again. So now, whether I’m walking, painting, or writing, I’ll keep inviting myself into that “extra mile.” I’ll set slightly higher goals, slowly retraining my subconscious to believe that progress doesn’t have to mean pain, it can be powerful, beautiful, and deeply rewarding.

This process of gently reframing my mindset, facing past wounds, and building new habits will strengthen me in every way. And in doing so, I’ll move closer to a version of success that is truly mine.