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Today my personal gym trainer told me that he got his own personal trainer. I guess it’s similar to how mental health therapists’ have their own therapist.
I should mention that my trainer is already a monster truck — He is 6’5, and his hand weighs as much as my upper body. I know this because there was this time he patted my shoulder, and I ended up sitting down in submission.
I asked him Why he needed a trainer, to which he replied, “Because the current me is not enough”.
I got fired up. You should have seen me add them 2 stacks of weight and show-off like there was no tomorrow. (Of course, I also ran out of steam thrice as fast)
By the end of this rigorous workout, I was spent. He asked me which part of my body felt most strong, and I earnestly replied, “I don’t know, I can’t feel my body anymore”; a welcome sign of a great workout.
When I started going to the gym, my goal was to “get in shape”, or whatever that meant.
Now under my trainer, it is more direct — I will lift atleast 1 stack above what I thought was possible.
Or as my trainer says — ”Being in control for the most part, but failing gloriously towards the end”.
That doesn’t mean being reckless and breaking my bones. Rather, it is to push so strongly, that you set yourself as an example for the criticism against free-will deniers. (Ironically, I am one of them)
Both my trainer and I have shifting goal-posts. We create a new one when the current one is achieved.
And onward we march…
Or so you would think.
Enters my family. Specifically, my mom and my sister-in-law.
“Just be careful. Don’t exert too much. There is nothing to prove”.
If the Dalai Lama was recruiting, these angels would have been on his draft pick.
I love running, and I always stagger the weekly call with my lovely family so it doesn’t fall prior to my cardio day.
This is added insurance to become deaf to the inner voices in my head hijacked by these women, every time I pick a pace faster than the 3-year old me.
My mom is Master Shifu’s female counterpart. I used to find it hilarious when my Dad would push me to not become the worst financial decision of his life. And moments post-onslaught, my mother would tell me to forget about it.
Because she could! She could obliviate the negative criticism thrown by her husband, her peers, her boss, and even her parents.
My mom never made it a goal to prioritize her personal life. She pushed herself because of a strong moral compass, but most importantly, because situations called for it.
She used to leave for work (at the hospital) by 8.30am sharp, even if the ward had a light patient load. Because “the current doctor-in-charge leaves at 9am, and I don’t want him to wait”.
She would come home late quite often, because patient loads used to ramp up by mid-afternoon, often extending into the evening.
As my father’s health steadily deteriorated, she had to ensure he had his meals on time. And being a woman in a 21st century developing country meant that the wife was in-charge of the kitchen.
She had chosen to sacrifice her health for the sake of her patients and her family. Through all of this struggle, I have never known her complain.
Amidst so many things beyond her control, there was absolutely no “goal” that could be charted out. There was no expiry date for any of these problems. There was really nothing to “learn” or “gain” out of this struggle either.
To deal with them required her to either — put herself on auto-pilot and face them head-on, OR to give up and walk away in search of a less painful future.
My mother went for the former, and simply accepted the situations as they unfolded with her trying to “do her best”.
Contrast to that, my sister-in-law hates working after-work hours. If she is handed a task towards 5pm, she transforms into a one-woman labor union.
I had the pleasure of accompanying her for grocery shopping on the day she was supposed to work extra. And she “missed” the freeway exit 4 times.
Having said that, I have seen her go way more than the extra mile for her colleagues.
During “crunch months”, she would login late around midnight and logoff for a quick nap, only to start work early morning again, because she doesn’t want the team to get a bad name.
By the way, this isn’t for something extrinsic, like a promotion. As far as I know, she isn’t getting any sort of VIP treatment in her team for slogging.
Both of them have that in common —
No matter the extent to which they push, they have a strong sense of knowing why to push.
They have no goals; the problems they face have no discernible end, and their struggle is selflessly directed outward. They don’t work hard so the struggle would transform them into better people, but rather because the situation asked for it.
From an ‘existential standpoint’, knowing the “why” gives both of them a strong purpose for exertion. The “why” guides their acceleration.
Imagine you were playing soccer and kept hammering the ball really hard into the goal. Well, good for you, but you wouldn’t be doing that for a long time if you didn’t have a clue as to why you were playing soccer in the first place.
Shifting goal-posts are great, but to sustain them you need a strong sense of drive and purpose. Having that also helps in adapting to changing circumstances.
These wise ladies always end up feeling satisfied with whatever they achieve. And this is also the reason for their strength as support systems for others during trying times.
In essence, they give their all because they have no goal-posts. They simply satisfy the necessity, or as the Beatles said “Speaking words of wisdom, let it be”.
When I am at the gym, I have an ever-shifting goal-post — ”To lift one extra stack, to do 2 more reps, to run that extra half a mile”. But, I make it a point to always remind myself of the purpose for doing so.
And these strong women in my life have taught me, that no matter whether I reach my lofty goals or not, whether I fail gloriously or not; as long as I know the “why”, in their eyes, I am always a winner.
And frankly, deep in my heart, I have begun seeing it too.
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