Of Courage and Other Things

I just heard this quote from Mary Anne Radmacher,

"Courage doesn't always roar. Sometimes courage is the little voice at the end of the day that says I'll try again tomorrow."

Okay, “heard” is a bit of an exaggeration; I read it on someone’s Facebook status. I don’t even know who Mary Anne Radmacher is, but I like this quote. A lot. In my ever present pursuit of fitness, I’ve always thought of working out as working toward an end result. A race. A triathlon. A certain pant size. A big moment. Crossing that finish line, pumping your fist, weeping copiously. The “Roar.” In the past, fitness has always been about the Big Event for me. I’d complete the Big Event then stop what I was doing. Hey, I met and/or exceeded my goal. If that happens at work, I get a raise. Well, when I completed my Big Events and then gave up training, I got a raise too – my pant size. Somehow though, in the past several months, I’ve come to realize that true fitness isn’t about the big reveal.

It’s about dragging your rump out of the warm, soft, cozy bed in the morning when no one is watching, or clapping, or cheering you on and lacing up your running shoes and pounding out a few miles.

It’s about hauling a workout bag along with your briefcase, lunch bag, and whatever other bag you carry (why do I have so many bags?) on the train to fit in a lunchtime or after-work jog on the treadmill.

It’s about having only one glass of wine the night before your longer run early on Saturday morning and being okay with that. Or just doing it at all early on a Saturday morning. For me, that’s a feat in and of itself.

It’s about not giving up because you missed a day of working out, or pigging out because you “slipped” on your diet.

It’s about not comparing yourself to the abilities of others but aspiring to being a better version of yourself.

It’s about cussing like a sailor in your head (and sometimes out loud) the whole time you are running, but still doing it anyway.

Me with Marg and Rita.

Hey, it only took me 20 years to get here. Better late than never, right? Listen, I’ve completed a half marathon. I’ve completed two triathlons. I’ve completed numerous 5Ks. All of those are great accomplishments and I’m damn proud of them, but I’ve come to realize that they aren’t the point. From now on, I’m going to give myself a mental medal when I get my ass out of bed in the morning to run. I’m going to chant my own name as I swim laps. I’m going pump my fist after a long bike ride. Those are the true accomplishments. Doing it when you have a million other things going on, or people have expectations of you to do what they want, or you’re tired and you just don’t feel like it. In other words, having the courage to put yourself, instead of everyone and everything else, first.

Oh, it doesn’t always work. I’ve missed workout days. I’ve eaten some Dairy Queen. Okay, a lot of Dairy Queen. I’ve picked The Real Housewives of Insert City Name Here over a jog. I’ve made dates with a margarita rather than my running partner. But the difference now is that every time I don’t meet my expectations for my pursuit of fitness, I try again the next day. It’s easy sitting on the couch. It’s easy (and wonderful) to sleep in. It’s easy going through a drive thru. But like Tom Hanks said in A League of Their Own, “It’s supposed to be hard…the hard is what makes it great.”