Not the emotional kind I've spent entirely too much time (and too many blog posts) thinking about and dealing with, but true physical pain. The kind of pain where it feels like every muscle and bone in your body is on fire.

I never realized how much one type of pain can help you manage the other.

When I first decided to get healthy it was done for the usual reasons. Wanting to live to past 50. Wanting to see my son grow up. Wanting to wake up and not feel 60 when I wasn't even 40 yet. The vanity aspect of it wasn't bad either. Fitting into clothes I hadn't been able to wear in years was an added bonus. What I didn't know was the wonders it would do for the other parts of my life that were just as unhealthy as my body.

When you feel like your arms are jello and you couldn't possibly lift a thimble, picturing that girl who broke your heart can push you to finish those last 3 reps stronger than the first 3. A quick reminder of lies and betrayal can make you hit that last mile harder and faster than you ever knew you could run.

Depression still creeps up and can blindside me without a moment's notice, but instead of my old instinctual method of survival which was disappearing and wallowing in a bed of my own self pity now I take a deep breath and punish the physical side of my being to the point the psychological pain doesn't stand a chance.

I never understood people who were into self harm. Cutting myself or putting cigarettes out on my arm never made sense to me. Now I get it. I just chose an approach with a few more long term benefits. Emotional pain makes you feel dead. Physical pain lets you know you're alive. As long as you're still alive there's still hope.

And as long as there's hope you keep on fighting. Never, ever, ever stop fighting.