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The Disappointment

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Here I am again after a workout; with a learned lesson realized maybe just remembered. I call this work out “the disappointment.”

When I was a kid I looked for shortcuts. I thought that when no one was looking, no one was looking. When I got away with something I became saturated in satisfaction with myself and how slick I was. I thought I was smart. So cunning. I got a way with it when no one was watching. Then, though, there were the times which were most tragic. The times my deception was discovered and discipline I expected. There I’d stood with my head held low in the shadow of shame and my father staring back at me; this time not in anger. No, those expectations were shattered by the words no child wants to hear. “I’m so disappointed in you.” No grounding, no long talk, just sick silence in the air with the echoes of his voice between my ears. My bottom lip quivering and I am thinking, “Why’d I do it?” 

Endurance. Its root is to endure. To endure implies pain. In exercising we can…

The Detox

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I walked confidently off the plane into the Columbus airport. As I breathed in the air conditioned air in the airport I heard my name. "Eric." In wonder I whipped around to reply and saw no familiar faces. There were two gentlemen in uniform walking my way "Are you Eric Dilley?" "Yes." I replied. "We have a warrant for your arrest out of Fairfield County." "Wow that was fast." I said with a smile. 
The plan was that I’d visit with my son, Deb and the Hope Without Dope group. Then after a week I'd turn myself in. My mother had other plans. She alerted the airport to arrest the felon who was flying in. I could have been mad. I could have run. I was done running. In my mind it made no difference to me. I made the decision to head into battle, not run from it. I made the decision not to be angry at others for my bad decisions. I, for the first time in a while, decided to own up to my life and to accept responsibility for it. My actions …

Forget the fatigue, focus on your form.

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One of my clients and I often have deep talks after we train. Well yesterday I trained him. Ha Ha Haaaa. More like smoked him! Well that's what they call it at Go Ruck. So when the Cadre (Ex-Special Forces who lead the event) are smoking you, they are putting you through a brutal workout. Usually all relatively simple movements which after done for a while, totally suck. 



I had my friend Jason sprinting a tenth of a mile with 50# vest on, doing push ups in cadence, more sprinting, mountain climbers in cadence, more sprinting, flutters in cadence while 50# is laying on his chest. Sprinting with a 50# sand bag, 40 ground to shoulders with the bag....well I think you get it. 
Eventually we came to the end of his work out. Every 30 seconds he increases his speed on the treadmill by 1 mile an hour until he can't go any more. I was coaching him to focus on his breath and to think about his form by relaxing and letting the treadmill move underneath him. He did well. After we were finis…

The Resilent

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YO! You want to build your resilience? You want to be able to in those moments of suck rise and say I got this? Make it a habit. How do you make a habit? Repetition. Now it's time to commit to grit. Try this work out. Carrying heavy things up hills and sprinting 7 or more times will bring you to that point. But why do we need to develop resilience?  

Physically healthy people are better able to recover from injury and illness, and the mentally healthy are better able to bounce back from trauma and stress. This is what we call resilience.

We all have levels of resilience because we all experience stresses in life. Like High School, being parents, deadlines at our jobs; trying to lose 50 - 100 pounds, battling addiction or depression.

Why though are we able to overcome some of these stresses and not the others? How can we?

You know I like to lift weights. I know that squatting 400 pounds right now isn't possible. I can squat up to 350 though. If I want to be able to squat 400 I have…

Begin with a job well done.

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This is audio of me reading the story. The speech is at the end.
"Begin with a job well done" is a belief of mine which developed after my addiction to drugs and a couple near death experiences. These experiences were real to me. I wasn't on a table and flat lined. No, not that type. Panic attacks. It's incredibly crazy to me how magnificently magical our minds materialize reality so real, so realistic to the observer inside our body. 
The time of peace
 "3:16 again! Why do I keep noticing this! It's like every time I look at the clock there it is! Obviously it is scripture reference." I would notice this every day. Why did I just happen to look at the time then? Why not at 3:15 or 3:17. Why on the treadmill did I always notice the 3:16 mark as I ran passed it? It seemed like I would see the number multiple times daily?!  "9:11. This too? What's the emergency? Do I need to go to church now? Am I going to die soon so I better reconcile my self with…

Broken femur, Tramdol and a notebook

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You know it’s crazy looking back through the looking glass of our lives. Journaling has enabled me to write down how far my mind has been bent during these peak times of stress in my life. One fateful March afternoon destiny struck suddenly like the sound of thunder. Nope, that sound was my femur snapping. That wet March afternoon I fell off Mount Pleasant and my life was catapulted again into a new yet familiar fantasy of pharmaceutical dependency. It was now time to put rehab and my training traumatically to the test. Thankfully the seriousness that I studied shined through, and despite the debilitating effects of temporary handicappedness and cloudy consciousness I came out on top! I have no qualms with sharing these past thoughts of over three years ago. This journal entry really illuminates the struggle I have had with depression, racing thoughts and yes, shame. Enjoy. "I think I am losing my mind sometimes. I’ve become so detached from everything that nothing is real. It’s r…

It's my fault she was addicted at birth.

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CLICK THE VIDEO TO LISTEN TO ME TELL THE STORY
Coming out of the destruction of addiction the shames we try to dilute are still accumulated and left over after evaporation. I have a couple HUGE ones. One is my overdose with my son in the car. The other, well...

I looked at her helplessly, through the glass in the hallway at the ICU.  I watched the innocence of my daughter being shook by tremendous tremors, and IVs of methadone dripping into her as an effort to control the symptoms. Tubes were going into her throat to help her breathe, and a heat lamp radiating above her to keep her warm. I wanted to leave.

Carbonated emotions bubbled up from the gut of my stomach. Anger at first; "She lied to me. She said she was clean." As I stood there with my head hanging low in the vault of madness as I thought, "Well you weren't out of jail to guide her, it's your fault." The anger dissolved into sadness and the sadness to shame. Our addiction, lack of discipline, selfish…

The robotic frog was real.

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It's a bit wondersome when we gaze back into the reflection of our former lives to re-live these memorable moments. Truly in doing so we often can see the Director hard at work. For instance, it wasn't until after I recalled these adventures was I able to see the crossroads which literally, and figuratively were laid before me. Here is the continuing of my memory, which I started last week.

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As I sat there on the railroad tie at the crossroads of the alley I was in, the dialogue in my brain was trying to figure out the material world before me. I stood up and walked toward the gate thinking,
"Even if this is true what are you going to do? Knock on the door? Are you going to just walk in there? What if you’re wrong and you’re breaking into the neighbors house of the person that is giving you a place to stay?" 
This motivated me back to the…