The second week of June met me on the tracks. I planned to enroll in a gym class, preferably one close to my neighborhood, but I was still making consultations on the best facility. So in the meantime, I committed myself to 45 minutes of jogging per-day.
One very important lesson I learned that morning is to always respect our guys in green. Ninty-something minutes running around the green track aint no child’s play.. When I got home after the first day, aside the fact that I couldn’t go for more than 20 minutes, my back and legs ached like hell. I almost didn’t leave the house the entire day.
What? “Twenty measly minutes on the track and you end up this messed up?” I shot at the guy staring back at me in the mirror, but he could not give me any reply as the bones that held his mouth and mind together were worn out by . After that morning, I knew I was in some real shit if I really wanted those abs I had fantasized about.
It’s been five days, and my body was getting used to this new drill, or maybe it’s my mind. It still took a lot of convincing to get my lazy ass off the bed when the 5:30am alarm rings.
I’d been on for 30 minutes, my stomach hurt like hell, lungs were bustling with fire, I could barely move my legs, but I kept on, I kept running.
I kept running, not because it was easy, nor because I had the strength in abundance. I wasn’t even sure I’d pull through the forty-five minutes.
I kept running because I had to. I kept running because I hadn’t hit my mark. I kept running even though it hurt like hell, not because I enjoyed the pain, but because I knew there was gain after this seemingly unending pain.
As if on a late-working steroid, an invisible dosage of adrenaline surged through my body giving me strength to finish.
I finished my forty-five minutes mark, and even managed to add a couple more minutes.
Writing this alone, I remember vividly how tough it was. I had two choices. To continue. Or to give up. But I chose the former.
This story applies to real life. In many cases, life presents us with to options. To take the easy way out, to bow out, and avoid failing and the disgrace that comes with. The second is to hold on. To fight on, to keep pushing, and risk failing.
What is life and aspiration without a little risk? I ask you? What meaningful result comes without a little sacrifice? Who dares to make greatness without paying the price of sheer hard work? I tell you, none.
So, when next you feel like giving up, like bowing out, because the whole thing seems too hard, because it’s becoming too tasking, because you think it shouldn’t be that hard , remember this, ‘there is no sweet without sweat.’ ‘There certainly is no reward without the sacrifice of hard work.’ ‘There is no gain, without pain.’