Push Ups Changed My Life
I recently had a very close mentor call me out on my own BS. He caught me being comfortable. Expecting that, since I’d had a few recent successes, things were certain to continue in that direction.
Like I said, BS.
After taking a good long look in the mirror (literal & figurative), I regained a sense of clarity, and now have a story and message that I would like to share:
As a kid, I wasn’t a very talented athlete.
The first sport I fell in love with was hockey. Like 95% of young Canadian boys, I wanted to play in the NHL. Seeing as I was cut to the house league or “B” team (the lowest tiers) every year from ages 5–12, this was looking like a long shot.
I remember telling my dad that I wanted to play on the “AAA” team (the top tier) and him telling me that I needed to get stronger, since I was so small. My dad is a military man, so he naturally suggested that I start doing push ups and sit ups in my bedroom every night before bed. He said that if I was going to make that team, the only way it would happen was if I worked harder than anyone else.
Heeding my father’s wisdom, 12 year old me started pumping out push ups and sit ups every night before bed.
If I was watching TV or playing video games, Dad would come in and say “Do your push ups”.
About a year later, I tried out for the Pee Wee football team and, at 4-foot-9 and 85 lbs, I’m pretty sure I was the smallest kid on the field. I wasn’t fast, I couldn’t catch the ball, and I didn’t even know the rules of the game of football. There was really no reason for me to make the team, but I did, and I will never forget what my dad told me on the drive home.
He said that he was standing by the field and, overhearing the coaches discussing the last cuts for the team, he heard my name.
I’m paraphrasing here , but he said it went something like this…
Coach 1: “What about the Culligan kid?”
Coach 2: “Sorry, he’s just to small.”
Coach 3: “He did 100 push ups in a row. We can’t cut him.”
That same year, I ended up making the Pee Wee AAA team for hockey. This time, during final cuts, the coach actually pulled me aside to talk to me.
Again, I’ll have to paraphrase, but I will never forget the message behind what he said.
Basically, he told me that there were plenty of more talented kids he could have picked instead of me, and that some of the other coaches suggested that he should have. But, he said that due to my effort throughout the try outs, he wanted me on the team, and made me promise him that I would play like that all year.
So, why the hell do you care about my sports career in my tweens?
You probably don’t, but I still do, and it’s not because I’m holding onto that dream of playing in the NHL.
I care because, between the ages of 12 and 13, I learned one of the most important lessons that I ever will.
I learned that for the rest of my life, I would be surrounded by people who were bigger, stronger, smarter, and more talented than I was. I learned that if I was going to compete with these people for the things I wanted in life, I couldn’t control my natural abilities, but I could always choose to work harder than anyone else, and therefore maximize my chances of achieving my goals.
Since then, I’ve always identified as someone who prides my self on a willingness to work hard, and when I look back on my life so far, I can attribute every single meaningful accomplishment to the work I put into making it happen.
Although I am very proud of the things I’ve worked hard for, I’m not saying all this to brag. In fact, it’s kind of the opposite. I’m writing this to acknowledge the tough question I had to ask myself when I realized that I wasn’t working as hard as I knew I could.
The question:
If everything I’ve accomplished — everything I am — can be attributed to gruelling hours of hard work…
WHO THE HELL AM I to think that I’m entitled to anything if I’m not willing to work for it?
I’ll always be grateful for having had parents who pushed me to work for what I wanted, for the coaches I had who showed me that the work was worth it, and for the few people who love me enough to call me on my shit.
I’m no expert and a lot of people are perfectly content putting in just enough work to get by. I honestly think that’s great if they’re happy,
But if you want something…
Do your push ups.
Dave
