So I'm in the middle of my first stall. My body and I are in this fight where it wants to do one thing, I want it to do something else, and I am feeling like a newbie just out of the starting zone that stumbled in to end game content.
I've always been the type of gamer that loved doing the impossible. Elite mob? No problem. Group of mobs three levels higher? Easy. Explore a zone ten levels too high? I'll run right through it! I'm that person that takes the phrase "You can't do that" as a challenge, not a warning. I'll throw myself at something over and over until I do it or die trying.
This has been no different. I'm taking comfort in plans and spreadsheets. I've done the math to show where I'll be next month, and the month after, and the month after that. I've got the next six months of my life planned out. I'm bordering on a near-fanatical, slightly neurotic desire to catalog every little thing. Every drink, every bite of food, every pill. Leave nothing unaccounted for, ever. I'm sure in some regard that this is entirely unhealthy. You see, like most games, this one has an end, too. Everyone can tell me (and I can tell myself) all the platitudes that I've learned from start to finish - marathon, not race, journey, not sprint, lifestyle not diet... but I don't care.
This is my end game boss and I'm a one-person forty man raid group. I don't care how many times I wipe, how high my repair bill gets, how much screaming and yelling I have to do to get my group in to shape, this b***h is going down and going down hard.
