This morning, I woke up with aching bones, stiff joints, and a right hand that’s seen better days. My legs are sore, my hands feel worn, and my body carries the weight of every movement I’ve pushed it through. But I know this pain. It’s familiar, expected, even welcomed. It’s not a sign of weakness—it’s proof of effort. A cup of coffee in hand, I take a breath and ease into the morning. The stiffness will fade as I move, the discomfort will lessen, and soon enough, I’ll be ready to do it all over again—the same activities that caused these aches in the first place. And I wouldn’t have it any other way. The alternative? A life of ease. Of sitting still. Of letting my body soften, weaken, and deteriorate under the illusion of comfort. But I refuse to trade my strength for stagnation. We were made to endure, to push, to grow through struggle. Suffering isn’t optional—it’s inevitable. But we get to choose what kind of suffering we embrace. The suffering of discipline or the suffering of re...