Sunday I watched the replay on NBC Sports of the Ironman championship in Hawaii.
I am not a triathlete; I'm barely a runner. But it's impossible to watch this program and not be moved and motivated. The excuses I come up with to justify my lack of exercise seem beyond trivial compared to the hardships these people put up with.
I laughed when they talked about how the elite athletes had finished and now the "everyman" finishers were trickling in. "Everymen" who are fitter, stronger, and more driven than any person I know (in the "real world"). To see a 76-year old nun complete something I'd never dream of starting shows just how much room I have to grow.
I don't know where this world is going to take me. But I know that I'd be throwing away what I'm fortunate enough to have if I didn't push myself just a little harder.
Speaking of pushing, I went for an "easy" run yesterday. I call it easy because I went outside without looking at the time, with no set route, no distance, no pace, and no goal. When I got back, it turns out I had run 3.25 miles, give or take. Not bad.
My muscles are more sore today than yesterday, by the way. I am still not Jason Bourne. I'll check the mirror again tomorrow.