Think you're tough?
There is a common thread in the winning of any Olympic event.
Toughness.
It isn’t always the best or talented in the sport that wins. Sometimes ... a lot of the time ... it is the toughest, the athlete that wants it most, the one willing to take more pain than the rest of the field, that wins.
Success in everyday life is much the same.
I just saw Simon Whitfield come from 15 metres behind to catch the three leaders in the triathlon, then pass them in a sprint for the finish.
He was caught and passed by the German for the gold but I am amazed at the toughness of Whitfield. (The German also gave him an accidental black eye in the swim.)
Simon sprinted to the gold in Australia and to the silver in China. In three Olympics he has been on the podium twice.
So who do I think of when I feel a little overwhelmed by life? What person do I use for inspiration when I’m feeling sorry for myself?
Simon Whitfield?
No, actually.
Simon is an incerdibly tough athlete and I feel very proud of him as a Canadian but there is someone else I think of to give myself a kick in the ass when I think I’ve got it bad.
There’s a hill that runs up a long way along Marine Drive in Vancouver that causes a lot of bicyclists to get off and walk. It is a long and hard climb.
I was getting a ride home in a truck from my construction job. I was miserable after a day of digging, covered in mud, 48 years old, feeling very tired and sorry for myself.
We passed a couple of young guys walking their bikes up the hill, puffing. Then we passed a good looking girl in her mid twenties powering up the hill. She had two prosthetic legs and one prosthetic arm. The road grime streaked her sweaty face and she was smiling.
Then we passed her and she was gone.
That’s who I think of to kick myself in the ass; an anonymous woman who has been through some heavy shit and came out swinging.
I only ever saw her that one time. I never talked to her and she doesn’t know the impact she had on me but in a strange way, she had more to do with shaping my current view of life than almost anyone else in my past.
I just added myself as a fan of Simon Whitfield on Facebook ... but I love that woman.
Toughness.
It isn’t always the best or talented in the sport that wins. Sometimes ... a lot of the time ... it is the toughest, the athlete that wants it most, the one willing to take more pain than the rest of the field, that wins.
Success in everyday life is much the same.
I just saw Simon Whitfield come from 15 metres behind to catch the three leaders in the triathlon, then pass them in a sprint for the finish.
He was caught and passed by the German for the gold but I am amazed at the toughness of Whitfield. (The German also gave him an accidental black eye in the swim.)
Simon sprinted to the gold in Australia and to the silver in China. In three Olympics he has been on the podium twice.
So who do I think of when I feel a little overwhelmed by life? What person do I use for inspiration when I’m feeling sorry for myself?
Simon Whitfield?
No, actually.
Simon is an incerdibly tough athlete and I feel very proud of him as a Canadian but there is someone else I think of to give myself a kick in the ass when I think I’ve got it bad.
There’s a hill that runs up a long way along Marine Drive in Vancouver that causes a lot of bicyclists to get off and walk. It is a long and hard climb.
I was getting a ride home in a truck from my construction job. I was miserable after a day of digging, covered in mud, 48 years old, feeling very tired and sorry for myself.
We passed a couple of young guys walking their bikes up the hill, puffing. Then we passed a good looking girl in her mid twenties powering up the hill. She had two prosthetic legs and one prosthetic arm. The road grime streaked her sweaty face and she was smiling.
Then we passed her and she was gone.
That’s who I think of to kick myself in the ass; an anonymous woman who has been through some heavy shit and came out swinging.
I only ever saw her that one time. I never talked to her and she doesn’t know the impact she had on me but in a strange way, she had more to do with shaping my current view of life than almost anyone else in my past.
I just added myself as a fan of Simon Whitfield on Facebook ... but I love that woman.
