Bonus Rounds
One of my healing rituals is walking before work with my coworkers.
Most mornings you’ll find us outside together, coffee in hand, solving the world’s problems one lap at a time.
But one morning…
it rained.
So I did what any reasonable person would do.
I announced that I’d found us a thirty-minute workout on YouTube.
Bodyweight only.
How bad could it be?
At the beginning of the video, the instructor explained exactly what we were about to do.
Four circuits.
Two rounds each.
Three exercises.
Thirty seconds on.
Fifteen seconds off.
Perfect.
I like knowing the plan.
My brain immediately settled in.
“I can do that.”
About ten minutes later…
I was no longer sure I could do that.
By the fourth circuit I was mentally preparing for the cool-down.
I was exhausted.
But I had almost made it.
Then the instructor smiled.
“And now…”
she said.
“…our bonus rounds!”
Absolutely not.
No, ma’am.
We had an agreement.
You explained the workout.
I accepted the terms.
I fulfilled my end of the bargain.
I even gave my laptop the middle finger.
Very mature of me.
We attempted a few bonus rounds.
Then I dramatically announced,
“WE ARE DONE.”
And slammed the laptop shut.
Poor LaToya.
She got to witness a level of theatrical outrage usually reserved for much bigger problems.
I’ve always joked that personal trainers lie.
They count slowly.
They add bonus rounds.
They tell you “just ten more seconds” and somehow those ten seconds last the rest of your natural life.
But later I realized…
That wasn’t actually what upset me.
Because honestly…
I expected the bonus rounds.
They almost always do something like that.
What bothered me wasn’t the extra exercises.
It was that my brain had already decided the workout was over.
The moment she explained the plan, my mind created a finish line.
And once I’d reached that imaginary finish line…
I couldn’t emotionally tolerate another step.
That realization hit me much harder than the workout did.
Because that’s not just how I exercise.
That’s how I live.
I love plans.
Structure.
Predictability.
Lists.
Schedules.
I like knowing what’s expected of me.
I like believing people will do what they said they’d do.
I like thinking life will unfold the way I imagined it.
And when it doesn’t…
I struggle.
Not because change is always bad.
Because my mind has already decided what “finished” looks like.
Healing has exposed that tendency in me over and over again.
I know people disappoint.
I’ve disappointed people too.
I know relationships change.
I’ve changed.
I know forever sometimes ends.
I’ve lived that.
I know life rarely follows the outline I’ve written for it.
And yet…
some part of me still keeps expecting it to.
The funny thing is…
the best parts of my life have often happened in the bonus rounds.
The friendships I never expected.
The writing I never planned.
The faith I didn’t know I needed.
The version of myself I couldn’t have imagined becoming.
None of those things were on my original workout plan.
They all happened after life said,
“And now…
one more thing.”
Sometimes that “one more thing” is painful.
Sometimes it’s beautiful.
Usually it’s both.
If I’d finished those last two minutes of the workout…
I probably wouldn’t have been much stronger physically.
But I would’ve proven something to myself.
That I could adjust.
That I could stretch beyond what I expected.
That my mind didn’t have to quit just because the plan changed.
Maybe that’s the real workout.
Not strengthening our bodies.
Strengthening our flexibility.
Not in our hamstrings…
but in our expectations.
Because every meaningful relationship…
every season of healing…
every dream worth pursuing…
eventually asks us to keep going after we thought we were finished.
Life has a funny way of adding bonus rounds.
Maybe the goal isn’t learning to love them.
Maybe it’s learning not to slam the laptop shut before we discover what they might become.
