Fridays are rest days.

When my rest days are crammed — morning announcements, evening events — it’s easy to not do anything. But on those kinds of days, I’m usually on my feet and completely stressed, so it’s not really rest.

This Friday, it was really rest. And it was so hard.

Work was relatively quiet, being a Friday in July. I slept in a bit. Left work at a normal hour. Had no plans in the evening. And I really, really struggled to not go to the gym. To do something. “I’m behind on my weekly strength,” I told myself. “You can just foam roll and do PT there,” I said.

But I know if I’d gone, I would have done more. So home I stayed. I became angsty, frustrated. Rest is really hard. To sit still, with your thoughts, with your body. To trust the process. To relax.

It’s just another thing to work on.