One of my mistakes, I think, is how I failed to apply some good, hard lessons to my future outlook. Way way back, when I was a wee lad in high school, I played football. No big deal. Most of my friends did, too. In the last two years, though, on the varsity level, the very first two weeks of practice at the end of summer was called “Hell Week.” That first day, as a junior, I remember feeling like life was moving in slow motion, as my body felt like it was numb all over. ‘This must be what a zombie feels like all the time,’ I probably thought. My body wasn’t used to being pushed to its limits. After two weeks and continuing to be pushed physically, my body got in the best physical shape it’s ever been in.
Our biggest (and most hated) thing at the end of practice throughout the entire season was running twenty 40-yard wind sprints. We were all pretty much gassed after going at it for two-and-a-half to three hours … and then we’d hear Coach Francois utter those loathsome words: “Gentlemen … on the line.”
All this hard work helped me then. Our team finished well in games due to use being in shape. Running wind sprints in the desert heat has its benefits. It helped me later. I realized that hard work was necessary and paid off. The mistake I made, though, was not wanting to ever go through that torture again. I remember actually telling one of my friends, “When this season is over, I’m never exercising again!” The problem with that statement was, I believe my mind, body and part of my soul took that pronouncement as some sort of prophetic word. By the time I was in college the next year, I only paid mild respect and interest in working out and staying in shape. In other words, I got out of shape in a hurry. Now, being young and maintaining a semi-regular habit of jogging — plus riding a bicycle or skateboard in and around Austin, to class or other events — this kept me in decent shape.
But I don’t know why I was dumb enough to actually believe that I’d never need to work that hard again. It was like I equated those conditioning drills as my own private Depression. “Back in my day, we ate a potato for lunch … and we liked it!” I somehow thought that I’d never have to push myself to those limits (and past them) again. I benefited from seeing how hard work produces good fruit, but somehow I mingled that with a lazy attitude that tried to get by with as little effort as possible. That’s lame.
I guess there’s a difference between understanding good lessons (like the “no pain, no gain” cliche/principle) and actually embracing them.
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