This past Tuesday, I did something I never believed I could do. Ever. Never in a million years. 1000 (that's one one thousand) squats in a period of an hour and a half. I promise I didn't just wake up that morning thinking "I think I'll do 1000 squats today." I do pilates almost everyday, and on the workout schedule for this month, there were only two videos to do that day. Normally there are four to six, so when I saw the two little boxes, my heart skipped a beat because I knew whatever Cassey had in store for the day would be a living hell. Youtuber Cassey Ho has a channel called "Blogilates" on which she posts workout videos that challenge you to become stronger, healthier, and happier with yourself.

Needless to say, I was terrified when I saw the video on the schedule titled "Can I Do 1000 Squats?" I didn't think I could do it. I figured my legs would cramp up, and I would have to stop halfway through. But I didn't. I told myself "I will do 1000 squats today even if I have to do 100 at a time." Once I said I was going to do it, it was in my head, and a sense of purpose grew inside me, projecting down into my leg muscles. I couldn't stop. I did all 1000 squats in one go, only pausing to stretch my legs after every 300 or so. When I'd finished, I reflected back at what I had done, and a thought occurred to me--what other opportunities for success have I missed because I didn't believe in myself or because I dubbed something as "too hard?"

Believing in yourself is something that has been preached to me my entire life. Countless coaches and teammates have told me, "If you don't believe you can win, then you can't win," but I never could fully believe it. How could something as small as making up your mind about something change the way you perform? Apparently the barriers in your own mind are much bigger than the physical barriers in life.

My high school basketball coach would write on the locker room white board the word "Mind" then a long, horizontal line, and under that, the word "matter." He would read "Mind over matter," and make us repeat it. He left it on the board for the majority of the three seasons I played for him. I admired the creativity, but the meaning was partially lost on me. I looked at that white board every day for almost three years.

Why have I been making excuses and saying I can't do things? Do I really know my own strength? How much success have I missed because my mind was holding me back? It doesn't matter because I'm going to change that now. I've made up my mind.