“Without change something sleeps inside us, and seldom awakens.” – Frank Herbert
Saturday the Mothership and the Muscleship competed. A workout was drawn up, and the groups pushed themselves and their teammates to finish. It was like any other day. All paid the same price, and all got the same result: sleep, sweat, comfort were offered in return for change, improvement, fulfillment. This workout was different, but exactly the same; all competed, and all reaped the rewards.
In this era of participation trophies and certificates of completion, it may sound trite to say there were no losers. You might even shake your head reading that sentence. In any competition, someone must win, and someone must lose.
Everyday we compete against the forces that would detract from who and what we are: complacency, laziness, disengagement. Everyday, we take a step toward winning that battle when we rise early and trade in our warm comfortable bed for a chance to change, be better, seek fulfillment. Everyday is another step in winning the only race that matters. Everyday we take that step, we’ve taken a step toward victory.
For one year now, minus some time on the shelf here and there, I’ve been taking that step. It starts off small enough – show up for some kind of workout out on a Saturday morning and be absolutely destroyed by Disclaimer. That’s how it started for me at least. It felt like the only thing I did right that day, one year ago, was show up. It definitely did not feel like a victory. But urged on by others, I showed up for a few more. And then a few more. And all of a sudden, I was showing up all the time. And things got a little clearer. And the fight became a bit easier. And I began to feel like I was winning it.
And I’m not the only one. I watch you all improve daily. You inspire me. I watched Angie’s List crank out 25 pull-ups without stopping Saturday. While an accomplishment on its own, that’s not the crazy part. By his own admission, he could not do 1 when he started F3. How’s that for change?
On Saturday I watched guys do extra to help those around them, not to win a competition. I watched slower guys move faster and faster guys push harder to help the slower guys. At any given workout, I’m the slow guy, the fast guy, or sometimes both at the same workout. But I’m not racing Douille (who I believe was first to finish in our group) or Catfish or Screwtop or any of the other guys who probably ran a faster mile than I could have while fresh. I’m racing against complacency, laziness, and comfort. We all are, and it’s the only race that matters. On Saturday, that battle was won by all.
Thanks for a great year of helping me fight that battle daily. – Kuch
