I ran this morning (or something I’d call close to such). I can’t tell you the last time I have. There was a time when I was good about it. Such time has been a while.
I was angry. I was frustrated. I knew my spirit and energy were wrong, and feelings—like problems—don’t just fix themselves: you have to work them out. And so I ran.
I admit the reality of my age and condition. I don’t judge myself on the pace and sustainment of my twenty and even thirty-something self. I gave what I had, which is all we can do and all that one can ask.
My son’s last basketball game of the season is today. We had two games last night. The second game, when the game was close and both teams were competing—he quit. Frustrated, tired, he gave up, came out, and when given chance did not want to go back in. I didn’t make him. I honored his choice, and when he tried to whine from his seat on the sideline at a foul that was called, I jumped him in front of everyone.
If you want to make a difference—compete. If you don’t—shut up.
It’s something that worries me as a Dad—finding that balance of respecting the limits of effort and conditioning—and also seeing when it is attitude and one’s own mind and self-pity when time’s get tough.
How do you learn to keep competing, to not give up? The only way I know is to do it. There’s no lesson. There’s no talking about it. You just do it, and if you never do, you never learn and while many lie and say they don’t—they condition themselves into quitters when confronted with a trial.
I don’t care about wins and losses. I care about effort. I care about being coachable. I care about playing as and for the team. When his team needed him, game on the line—he quit.
I could be angry (and a piece of me is, if true and honest). I could hold it against him, but God has forgiven me for far more than temporary fail at a sport and youthful lesson.
I could talk…and talk…and talk: or I could do.
If you want effort—give it. If you want others to push when they are tired—do. Give what you have. Win or loss—you left it out there. You tried to make a difference, to win—even if it wasn’t enough. That’s a lesson from sports that carries through life.
They’re not fun to learn, but they’re the ones we remember. How—and to what purpose—defines who we become.
No whining. Work harder.