If I tell myself that I’m going to do something, then I need to stick to it (just like Jason says). I don’t care if that’s finish a run, get up early or keep my clothes on — I need to stick with what I promise myself and you should, too.
Is this the best blog post, ever? Most likely not (although it just keeps on getting better). I’m tired and have a sleeping Pug next to me, but that doesn’t mean that I shouldn’t follow through enough to keep myself conscious of the importance of making the things I tell myself I’m going to do actually happen. Wow, that last sentence was long and most likely grammatically incorrect. Gangsta’.
I can’t be the only person who has been affected this way due to the unlimited supply of mobile entertainment on our smart phones, iPads or whatever other personal electronic device is your drug of choice. It’s sad, but true — my once fairly brief rendezvous in the bathroom has now become an opportunity to view all of the top videos on YouTube and to see what’s hot on Reddit.
The result? A slightly uncomfortable experience for a few minutes once the blood starts rushing back to my lower extremities. I also get a slightly shameful feeling once I realize that I’m going to do the same exact thing again the next time I go to the bathroom because I need to do a number two. It’s a vicious cycle and not exactly something I’m proud of, but there’s still no way that I would ever go back to reading shampoo bottles. That’s just weird.
Not that changing a 3 year-old’s diaper isn’t exciting (I get to hear about a lot of good stories), but I’m going to focus on the Summer vacation for now. Just last weekend my wife flew out of SFO excited to be getting a break from the kids she teaches and some time away from our day-to-day life. She left behind me and the Pug (Frank) and we’re currently in single bachelor mode for thirty days, give or take.
It’s actually funny what happens when it’s just Frank and I hanging out together. Surprisingly some of my new married habits that I’ve come to learn and have somehow miraculously stuck around. I’m still making my bed every morning, doing the dishes before they pile up and I’ve even kept our entry way in the apartment clutter-free. These are all things that only a couple of years ago would have never happened and it’s both good and interesting to see that I’m sticking with them even when my wife isn’t keeping me in check. Yay for me, I’m so awesome.
With all of that being said, I’ve also slipped on a few things. I’m a weak, weak man when it comes to maintaining some habits and no matter how marriage conditioned I get I will still revert to the time when it was just me, myself and I. For instance, the first two nights that I was wife-free I didn’t even make it to my bed before I fell asleep. Instead I got comfy with Frank on the couch in my living room and dozed off with reruns and late night infomercials still blaring on the TV in the background. When this happens I usually wake up around 2-3 a.m. wondering where I’m at and why I haven’t brushed my teeth yet. It’s not something I’m particularly proud of, but it’s what happens when I’m left in our apartment all alone.
Other things that happen when the wife ditches me for a while:
1. I stay up way later
2. I skip a lot of meals
3. I don’t ever cook anything
4. I stay at work way later (I also get into work later, too)
5. I hog the entire bed (as long as Frank isn’t already hogging it)
6. I don’t watch any TV, but I watch more movies
So far I’m surviving, but I still have a long way to go. A month is a lot of single bachelor mode, but I think I can make it. More updates soon.
A lot has been on my mind lately and to be honest it’s been a bit of a struggle for me. Normally I would just keep most of it inside and deal with it in the context of private conversations either in my head or with my wife, but I think it’s about time for me to get a little more real when I write. One thing that I really admire is a person’s ability to open up honestly and gracefully about their good, bad and ugly to the world without letting pride get in the way of communicating it (which is something that I have never been very good at). Call it being radically transparent or call it openly complaining — whatever you think it is I see it as being truthful, honest and real with who they are. Truth can be nasty and it’s sometimes hard to hear it and to tell it, but in the end truth is pretty much the most awesome thing ever and it’s something that should be a bigger part of my life.
While most of us are great at writing status updates and tweets about all of the great things that are happening in our lives we tend to leave out the things that aren’t going so well or that we need to get off our chest. We tend to leave out the truth. We keep it inside, all locked up in our own heads and instead choose to post a few things that make us look cool instead of vulnerable or trendy instead of transparent. I not only understand why this happens, but I’ve done much more than my fair share of it. In fact, I would say that I’m the king of showing off my good side online and leaving out a lot of the truth. For some reason I’ve just never felt like I needed to share my problems or honest feelings with other people, so I just kept them to myself and made sure that they never made it out into the open. Instead, I come up with what I think people want to hear (which I’m really good at) and tend to leave out what’s real. It’s kinda sad, but it’s true and it happens more than I’m sure most people like to admit.
But, that’s going to start to change for me because today I’m starting what I like to call my “Truth Revolution”. What this means is that from here on out I’m going to stop writing only about the things that I’m eager to share like a new idea or a fun experience and I’m going to start including other feelings, thoughts and issues that I’m dealing with. Simply put, I’m going to start including more truth in what I write. I’m sure that this will be an ongoing work-in-progress, but I hope that through my writing I can become more truthful in my life and help others to inject more truth into theirs.
Where did all of this Truth Revolution stuff come from? Great question and something that I’ve been asking myself about a lot, too. The only thing that I can point to is that lately God has made it more and more apparent to me how important truth really is and has been making me face it head-on by putting me into situations where it’s the only way out. Living in the truth hasn’t been easy and it’s been a lesson long time coming, but it’s here now and I don’t think that it’s going away anytime soon. If you’re currently not living in the truth I would suggest that you take some time to think about it. Avoiding it is almost always the easiest way out, but believe me when I say that it’s not the choice you want to make. If you want to have your own Truth Revolution, go for it — there’s no better time for it than right now.
Last week I took some funny pics of my Pug, Frank and I though that I should do something with them. They really cracked me up and when I looked at them I thought that Frank looked like he was asking me something very important. What’s important for a Pug to ask? That’s a great question and I don’t have a good answer for it, but I’ve been playing around with a few options and wanted to post them up on here so that I could have some record of my progress.
I think some of the final images are pretty funny and I’ve even started personalizing them for some of my friends on Facebook. I don’t have much time during the week to work in this kind of stuff, but hopefully I can figure out exactly what I want to do with what I’m calling the Inquisitive Pug. I even made a Facebook fan page for it, but who knows what I’m going to do with it.
Here are a few to check out:
Here’s one I made for my wife (who loves to memorize rap songs):
I’m sure there’s been a time in your life when you wanted to make a change. Maybe it was a huge change like losing some weight and maintaining a healthier lifestyle. Or, maybe it’ s less personal and more professional like getting more visibility in your company or being able to handle more responsibility so that you get more respect at your job.
Let’s go much simpler — maybe you just want to be able to talk to people easier and not feel so nervous all of the time.
No matter what your hopes and desires may be for your life I think that we can all agree on a couple of things:
There is always something that we would like to improve/change in our lives
We usually suck at actually making any of these things that we want actually happen (although we’re great at talking about them all the time)
Although I can’t say that I’m even close to having all of the right answers when it comes to making change, I have found one simple (but hard) thing that has definitely pushed me in the right direction: Being Intentional.
What Does Being Intentional Mean?
If you’re being intentional you’re moving around in your life with purpose, forethought and focus. You are making certain decisions on purpose, you’re not only taking what it coming to you on a daily basis and you’re actively thinking about where you’re at, what you’re doing and why. This sounds like it’s a lot of work and a little over the top, but honestly it’s not that hard once you figure out (and it’s actually kind of fun once you get used to it).
I know that examples are a lot better than definitions, so let me tell you a story about how I have become more intentional in my life. This is a very simple example, but you’d be surprised how this small act of being intentional has spilled over into other parts of my life that I would have never thought possible.
Making The Bed
Do you make your bed? I’m guessing that you don’t, but if you do then you deserve a high-five for taking care of business. Back in the day I never used to make my bed. EVER. I mean, what was the point? I never had the time to deal with it and even if I did I was just going to get back into that bed the very same night and mess it all up again. Then why, I ask you, would I take the time to make it look all pretty every single day? Seemed kind of stupid to me.
Fast forward to just a few months ago and I have a whole new perspective. A made bed looks nice, it’s a great first step to getting other things done and it makes me feel good to know that I can consistently keep up at least one (simple) process on a daily basis. One of the main challenges in making a change in your life is the feeling of not knowing where to start. I took this feeling head on by choosing to do something that I knew I could make time for every day as long as I stuck with it. Making my bed every day isn’t a complex task and it’s not something that I have to physically prepare for, which is why it’s a great goal to start with. It’s all about making time for it and making it a priority, which makes it easy to take on but still requires requires effort and attention to complete.
…sticking to any resolution – no matter what it is – brings satisfaction. You’ve decided to make some change, and you’ve stuck to it. Because making my bed is one of the first things I do in the morning, I start the day feeling efficient, productive, and disciplined.
I would have to say that I agree.
What Else Does Being Intentional Mean?
Being intentional goes way beyond making a bed. It’s being present in what you are doing, knowing what you want an outcome to be (or at least making a decision either way) and then taking the steps and making the effort to see it through. Being intentional means not just shrugging something off because it’s going to take time and focus to get something done. Being intentional is making the time for the things you really want to have in your life. Being intentional is not just floating around throughout your day hoping that things are going to happen the way that you want them to. Being intentional is a constant reminder of who you are, what situation you’re in and how you would like the situation to play out. Being intentional is hard work and just like with anything else that’s meaningful and worthwhile, it takes time.
If you’re someone who feels like you want to achieve something you’ve always wanted, but never did or if you have something you’ve always wanted to change, but have never been able to do it then being a little more intentional with your day to day life can help you get there. To be honest, it’s something that I’m just now learning to do and I am far from an expert, but I do know one thing — being more intentional doesn’t just happen It’s a long-term process that needs to start off somewhere small and work it’s way into your life. I started with making my bed and that got me started in the right direction. What’s going to get you headed to where you need to go?
A couple of months ago I met a fellow tall Ryan at a little get together and he mentioned that some of his other friends named Ryan were going to put together a party that was just for all of the Ryans who live in the Bay Area. He said that they would, of course, allow people with other names to show up, but the night was going to be all about being a Ryan and nothing more. Oh, and maybe your name is Bryan or Brian, the close cousin of Ryan? Well, you can come too, but you have to wear a Ryan name tag for the entire night. You don’t have to like it, but you still have to wear it. It’s our night.
Admittedly me and the Ryan who I was talking to at the time had put away a few beers together at this point, so I wasn’t completely sold if this was ever really going to happen. I mean, I wished that it would and I wanted to believe that the Ryan Party was going to come true, but for some reason it just didn’t sound possible. It was like it was just too good to be true.
Man, was I wrong. The #RyanParty is on and it’s on big. I’m heading there tonight with a fellow Ryan and we’re going to be rocking the design you see below on t-shirts that we just had printed today. For all of you other Ryans out there (and fans of Ryans) I put it online so that you can download a PDF version of it.
The guy you see in the photo is Robert. He’s retired and from noon-1pm every Thursday for the past 8 years he has stood in front of the Federal Building in San Francisco at the corner of Golden Gate Avenue and Larkin Street in what he calls a Peace Vigil against the wars that United States are currently involved in. The Peace Vigil actually started right after the attacks on 9/11, so there were others who had been standing there every week even longer than he has. When I saw Robert standing on the corner holding his sign I felt like I had to go talk to him about what he was up to. He was a super nice guy and we ended up chatting for about ten minutes or so while he waved his sign around in the air at both locals and tourists who would roll by on double-decker sightseeing buses.
When I asked him whether or not he felt like his weekly protest was working or not, he said something that I thought was interesting. “You know, there is still a lot of war going on so I’m not sure how much of an effect we’ve had on all that, but personally it helps me feel better knowing that I’m actually out here doing something about it. No matter what, I know that I’m going to be out here every Thursday (he even puts it on his calendar) and making the effort to do something about an issue I care about is important to me. It’s important to me and all of these other people who are out here together.” At the time, there were probably another twenty-five to thirty other people who were also holding signs and letting San Francisco know how they feel about the wars that the United States in currently in.
As some of us have done every week since 2001, we stand here in witness to another way forward: a way of listening, mutual respect and understanding, of reflection, repentance and reconciliation. As people of many organized faiths and none, and as people of the United States, we take this time to focus on our own responsibility and on what we can do to address our complicity in the violent and soul-denying policies our government pursues at home and throughout the world. For some of us it is an opportunity to pray, to examine our lives for the seeds of war and to begin the work of removing them…
Just like Robert said, who knows how much of an impact they’ve had directly on the people who are making decisions in the Federal Building they stand in front of every week. What they’re doing is more of a statement to the people of San Francisco who have seen them every Thursday for the past 10 years over and over again. It shows people that they care about what they’re protesting enough to stick around and to continue to show up. They’re not doing a one-time flash mob and never doing anything about it again. These people care strongly about what they’re protesting and the persistence and consistency that they’ve displayed over the years proves it. I can definitely respect that.
Just being there, showing up, being consistent and persistent — it sounds simple, but it’s really hard to follow-through with. Robert had made it a priority and that’s the only reason it’s worked. I know I need to make a few things more of a priority in my life if I want them to be consistent, what about you?
[box type=”info”]I wasn’t really sure what to write about today and I didn’t have a whole lot of time, so I came up with an idea to research and write about a topic I was curious about using two constraints: 1. it has to be under 400 words and 2. researched and posted under 30 minutes. I call it a 400/30 post.[/box]
I ran into this bike polo website the other day and was intrigued with the idea of the sport even though I had no idea what it was. I ended up watching this video of some woman getting their bike polo on and after doing a quick browse of the web I thought that it was worth 400 words and 30 minutes of my time to explain it all to you. Pay attention, I don’t have a lot of time here.
The History of Bike Polo
The original bike polo was invented in Ireland in 1891 by a retired cyclist named Richard J. Mecredy. The sport was first played on grass just like the traditional polo game, but instead of horses they used bikes. In 1908 bike polo was a demonstration sport in the London Olympics, which saw Ireland beating Germany for the gold medal. Nice work, Irishmen!
The winners of the 1908 Olympic demonstration. (photo credit)
During the 1930s France and Great Britain were known for having some pretty hardcore bike polo matches and they used to have several international championships. Sadly World War II completely wiped the sport out of Great Britain, but France kept the sport alive and still has league championships on a regular basis.
In the 1980s bike polo became really popular in both India and the United States, which lead to the first world championships in 1996. They were held in the US, but the gold medal went to India. Man, those guys were good.
The Arrival of Hardcourt Bike Polo
An updated, grass-free version of the sport called hardcourt bike polo started in Seattle in the early 2000s and started spreading across the United States like something that spreads really, really fast. Regional US tournaments have been going on since 2004 and the first European and North American hardcourt bike polo championships were both held in 2009 and the winners qualified for the world championship, which was help in Philadelphia. A team from Seattle named Team Smile won the world title with a Canadian and New York team coming in second and third place, respectively.
Since then the sport continues to grow more and more and is popping up in cities everywhere. If you need evidence of this growth I just saw that there was a Midwest championship last month in Indiana (which is where I’m from), so yeah — it’s now officially everywhere.
If you’re wanting to dig into some more bike polo goodness, check these links out:
[box type=”info”]This is a guest post by one of my friends Jason Smith, who also happens to be one of the most interesting people I know. He’s a triathlon maniac and has some of the best stories when it comes to never giving up and taking a challenge to a ridiculous level. In this story he talks about how he “cowboyed up” and finished a triathlon after breaking his collar bone just two weeks before. Like I said, he’s a manic.[/box]
BEING TOUGH IS IN MY BLOOD
Being tough in my family has always been a rule of thumb. “Suck it up, boy!”, “Don’t quit, boy!”, “Keep your head up, boy!” my dad would always say. I don’t know where dad got the toughness from but I think it was his job (Head Trainer of the Indiana University Football team) and/or grandpa who molded him into this driven/“no pain”/“Rocky” mentality as he is today. My dad had has had four hip replacements and still is riding his bike like Lance Armstrong — for real. I’ve seen the man slip on the ice and crack his head on the pavement so hard that I felt the vibration through the soles of my shoes but he got right back up, brushed the snow off his pants and acted like nothing happened. NEVER have I EVER seen my dad cry. Well, I take that back, his eyes filled up with enormous amounts of salty liquid when grandpa died (does that count??). But even then, he still stood tall and made sure the rest of the family was okay.
So I guess experiencing all these character building traits of my dad I feel I have to be the tough guy as well. Well, maybe “stupid” is a better choice of words. For example, after getting my wisdom teeth pulled I “had” to do a track workout. I thought if I didn’t get my workout in I was going to lose fitness. Or maybe receiving eighteen stitches in my leg from a mountain bike wreck and then after I was compelled to finish my ride because I didn’t get that last hour in. And most recently, I competed in a triathlon 2 weeks after breaking my clavicle. Swam, biked, and ran with one arm. Hey, if paraplegic can do it, I can do it, right?
CHASING THE DREAM AND BREAKING A BONE
So speaking of a broken collar bone, on November 1st, 2010 I moved to Santa Barbara, CA for many reasons. 1) is to start my new life with my girlfriend, 2) start a new job and 3) to compete in triathlons professionally. Unfortunately, within a month of living in California I broke my clavicle (collar bone) in three places from a bike accident. It was a rude awakening to start my new life in California but surprisingly this was my first bone I’ve ever broken so I guess that was pretty cool. Well, kind of.
Smitty’s first broken bone was a doozy and it couldn’t have come at a worse time
It was cool because I could show all my friends the x-ray of the shattered bone on facebook. It was not cool because apparently, as a triathlete, we need our shoulders to swim, bike and run (well running is doable but I’d advise not to if you break any bone in your shoulder). After showing off my broken collar bone the reality started to set in. This actuality of not being able to go 110% is hard to take. The break made me super upset because now it’s going to take me two weeks to get back on my bike, three to four weeks to run again and two months to even think about getting back into the pool. The next day (after sleeping a whole 2 hours in a chair due to the pain) I thought about getting on my bike. Immediately a little voice in my head said, “ya know, riding my bike probably isn’t the best thing to do right now”. So, I decided to skip it – for that day.
HEALING CAN WAIT
The next day, after getting another 2 hours of sleep in a chair, my OCD kicked in and I HAD TO GET ON MY BIKE! I asked myself, “Is it really that bad?” Again I thought of all the stories to where people have sucked it up, kept their head up, and cowboyed up. For example, Tyler Hamilton riding the Tour de France with a broken collar bone. “See it can be done”, I thought to myself. Steve Prefontaine broke and won the American 10k record which lead Oregon to a Track and Field National Championship on a foot that needed twelve stitches. Or (my favorite) when Professional Bull Rider Lane Frost got his balls riverdanced on by a 1,200lb bull and wanted to quit the competition until his best friend David “Tuff” Hedeman told him to COWBOY UP! While all these stories are circling around my head I decided to put my bike on the trainer and began to cowboy up myself, so off I went. As I was riding I thought, “Why in the hell do we do this to ourselves?” I guess it’s the love of the sport that makes us do crazy things. It’s a test within. As a competitor, I guess I was testing the guy inside. I was also hearing my dad say, “A day wasted is a day you can’t make up.” How many times have we heard that?
HEALED UP AND READY TO RACE
Four months later my clavicle was healed and back to normal. Swimming was finally back up to speed and running and biking were the same. Two weeks till my first competition and I was feeling good and felt like I was ready to rock! This race was important for the fact that it was a professional sanctioned race. You see, in a professional sanctioned race if an amateur athlete places high enough he can advance his status to a professional athlete (receiving his “pro card” as one might call it). To prepare for this triathlon my coach had me signed up for a 10 mile race. I was excited about it, but life had other plans…again.
DOWN FOR THE COUNT (BUT NOT FOR LONG)
The night before the race I was riding my bike home and a car pulled out right in front of me. After quickly swerving and barely missing the car I started pedaling as hard as I could to keep up with traffic and my chain snapped. Not good. When this happened thought that the car behind was going to literally run me over, so I closed my eyes and embraced the hit. After hearing the rubber of the car tires drift right inches from my body I felt a wave of relief come over me. I was alive and I was pretty happy about that.
But, when I got up and grabbed my bike I immediately felt this crazy pressure in my shoulder. Oh yeah, the same shoulder I broken before. I’m not really sure what exactly went through my head at that point, but I think it was something like “F&$%! I DID IT AGAIN!” Sure enough, I had broken the same exact bone in the same exact place that I had broken only 4 months ago. Talk about life giving you a nice kick in the balls – well, actually, more like a kick in the head, pelvis, ribs, knee, elbow, and shoulder from drilling the pavement.
After I pulled myself together I was so mad that I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs, but I was in so much pain I couldn’t even do that. I was hopeless helpless and walking home like a dog with his tail tucked between his legs. It definitely wasn’t one of my finer moments. Of course the thing that really sucked was that my girlfriend was out of town so when I got home I couldn’t even get undressed and take a shower. So I ended up sleeping on top of my covers with an ice bag that leaked all over me in the bed all night long. Not comfortable.
10 MILES WITH A BROKEN COLLAR BONE
The next morning (day of the race that prepared me for my big triathlon) I sat in bed not wanting to move, all of a sudden I hear that damn voice in my head again, “Suck it up, boy!”, “Don’t quit, boy!”, “Keep your head up, boy!” and of course, the phrase that I love the most “COWBOY UP, BOY!” was flashing in my head brighter than a neon sign in Vegas! So, I dragged myself out of bed, went straight to the medicine cabinet, popped some Advil and ran the 10 mile race. It wasn’t pretty but I ran it. It was hard but didn’t stop. The entire time I was running I was thinking, “If I quit now, I’m not going to be ready for my triathlon competition in two weeks. KEEP GOING!!” I cowboyed up and that was that.
ON THE SIDELINES FOR THE TRIATHLON
Two weeks later was the Triathlon. My shoulder still broke as can be and there was no way that I was getting my pro card at this point. Still pissed off, I went to the race anyway to support my girlfriend and the rest my team. The morning of the race I actually packed my racing kit, picked up my number and headed down to transition just to see what it was all about. Since I had already registered for the race I might as well get my free T-shirt, right? Well, subconsciously I knew exactly what was going to happen. My mind was telling me to compete but I told myself I was just going to be more of a cheerleader from the sidelines. Personally, I didn’t really like what my body had to say…so I started to ignore it.
All of a sudden, partly out of habit and partly out of sheer ridiculous determination I noticed myself starting to set up all of my gear. After that I started warming up. After I finished my warm up I started to pin on my race number. Something was happening and it felt like it was almost out of my control at this point. My mind was set on running this race and it was getting my body ready for it.
TIME TO COWBOY UP
At this point my good buddy, Craig Spreadbury (an amazing triathlete), saw me and said, “Dude, you already warmed up and your stuff is set up in transition. Don’t be a pussy now, you might as well race.” Feeling the love/pressure from Craig was all I needed to officially push myself over the tipping point to grabbing my chips and going all in. So, I strapped on my brace and sling, pulled on my wet suit and off to the start line I went. Considering the situation I was in and how I was feeling mentally my only real goal now that I was going for it was not to finish last. I thought that seemed like a legitimate goal at the time.
And they’re off! A one-armed Smitty is in there somewhere
As Craig and I were standing in the endless swarm of swimmers (talk about feeling like David taking on Goliath) the gun went off and we were heading for the water to start the swim. For some reason I found myself caught in the middle of a bunch of crazy guys who were serious about getting after the swim and I had to keep up with the pack. I really didn’t have a choice at the time, but in hind sight I can confidently say that starting in the very front was a bad choice on my part. Quickly I figured out that I’d rather run with the bulls in Spain on any given day than try and swim with humans only using one arm. Seriously, it was really that bad.
MAYBE SWIMMING WITH ONE ARM ISN’T THAT HARD?
Be that as it may, I swam as hard as I could with one arm at my side and the one other doing all the work. After getting kicked in the face about fifty times I thought about quitting but then thought to myself, “COWBOY UP and Keep Going!” Rounding the last buoy in the lake I thought this had to be the longest 26 minutes of my life. Wait, I swam that in 26 minutes?? As I quickly did the math in my head I thought to myself, “I actually might have a shot at not getting last!” Granted, clocking in at 26 minutes for a 1500 meter swim is VERY slow but if I knocked out a fast bike and run then I would be able to catch up to the rest of the pack and then some.
MAYBE I WON’T BE LAST
After the swim I stripped off my wetsuit and hopped on my bike. Starting thirty minutes behind the first wave of swimmers I was thinking to myself “Just do what I can and have fun.” And by the time I was finishing up the 25 miles on the bike I noticed that I was passing some of the athletes in the first wave! “WHAT?? REALLY? You mean I’m not going to get last?” I had caught up with most of the guys and I couldn’t believe it.
Biking with one arm and still killing it
Caught up and ready for the run
RUNNING ONE-ARMED 6-MINUTE MILES
Knowing that I had caught up at that point I ran as hard as I could for the last leg of the triathlon, which was a 6 mile run. I crossed the finish line exactly at 38 minutes (a 6:09 minutes/mile average) and received 11th place. Again, not an unbelievable accomplishment but it was okay – especially for a guy with only one arm. Getting 11th place was great and all, but I was more proud of the fact that I put myself through a ridiculously tough test and pushed my way through it to the end. I think dad would have been proud, that’s for sure.
Smitty finishes the triathlon in an incredible 11th place
I COWBOY UP, DO YOU?
In any situation, when the chips are down, we have to ask ourselves if can we can cowboy up, get back on the saddle and have the drive to follow through? In this situation, I think I did and I feel pretty good about it. Call me crazy, but I hate excuses. If someone asked me about my race, there are two ways I could answer the question. “Yes, I challenged myself and finished!” or I could say “no” and whine about how my shoulder held me back, blah, blah, blah. No one wants to hear a person give excuses. I believe in life there are no second chances. Every moment is a test you can take and you can only take it one time (ie. a job, a relationship, a race etc..). If you have a shot at victory make damn sure you take it and don’t be afraid to fail.
Even with one arm I knew that I wasn’t going to win, but I was going to get after it and give it my all. In other words, I cowboyed up and I’m sure I’ll do it again. Will you cowboy up when the time comes? I sure hope so.