Here I Go Again

This morning was absolutely awesome. Why? Because it was terrible. Huh? Yeah, that's right- terrible. The weather was gosh-awful, wet, cold, windy, and as I rode my bike through the darkness I evidently became some sort of invisible apparition-like target to those people simultaneously backing out of their driveways while eating, texting, and applying makeup. I swear I was inches from being knocked off my bike and into an out-of-body experience-- several times.

Worse, I wasn't alone in the gym. Typically I am- or at least only share it with those who are using the treadmills and stationary bikes. The weight-lifting-type-stuff occupies a different area and is usually all mine in the mornings. This time there was no one on the bikes or treadmills- just one other guy working out at my machines. Worse still, he was better at it than me. Well, I don't know about better- but he was definitely in better shape than I am and was working out earnestly and methodically (a.k.a. "perfectly") at the same time. It was like he was demonstrating how it is supposed to be done- like a professional exercise demonstrator or something. I'm more the opposite of that.

So like I was saying, awful. I was cold and wet from the ride, shaken from being near-squished by motorists, and looking like exer-pro's "before" picture or "special-needs friend", when it hit me. Right then I realized that if I stuck it out- did my workout, pedaled my fat butt back home through the rain, made it past the distracted drivers behind the wheels of their 3-ton suburban assault vehicles, drank my craptastic spinach-berry smoothie, maintained dietary moderation throughout the day, got plenty of rest, and woke up the next morning to repeat the process--- and did it ad-infinitum, it would be sooooo worth it! "Endeavor to persevere," as Chief Dan George would quote.

My dad has an awesome work ethic. That guy flat out gets stuff done. He get's it done- not later, during the commercials, not tomorrow, not after it stops hailing fire, NOW. He's constantly go-go-go. Even now that he's retired. It's really kind of annoying. When I was a kid, he expected the same from me. I can't say that I appreciated it much then, but I do now. We lived in the crappiest of places; remote places plagued by extreme temperatures, constant wind, hostile people, dust, dirt, mud, ice, insects, vermin, and other sundry inconveniences. I always had the worst of chores; digging ditches, cleaning and repairing machinery, dirt work- and all seemingly in the middle of some crap-storm end of the world scenario during which necessity, urgency, and pissed-off-dad-fury all combined in a less than pleasurable experience. There were times when I thought I could bear no more, and would lie in bed, concentrating with what little strength remained to just shut down and die. Most of the time I just gritted my teeth and just powered though. Hey, when you're ten and not allowed to mope, that what you do. Can't say I appreciated that much then either, but today and everyday since leaving that situation, I do.

I believe that by enduring the worst of situations with a positive attitude, knowingthat it's all going to work out, pay off, and somehow make things better makes me better. It hones my determination and grit and on days like this, I freakin' kick ass. I work harder, stay more focused, and am more determined than ever to reach my goals.

Rock on.