I guess the proper term would be "the suffering is optional." But what is suffering, really? Is suffering going to the gym every day if you’re a professional athlete? Is it staying in shape or spending on a sport so you can live healthier? Is it a father of five working overtime to buy badminton rackets so he can play with his kids? Is it a single mother jogging around her village so she can handle the stresses of parenthood better?
I almost threw up watching the scourging in "The Passion of the Christ" but couldn’t get up to leave because I was in the middle of the row. But then I asked myself if that was suffering if, at the end of it all, Jesus could say "Mission accomplished." Maybe not.
All the time, we hear athletes talk about sacrifice. We think of it as a four-letter word (then again, so are "love" and "hope" and "arts"). What we really mean by sacrifice is giving up to get what we want. Obviously, I’m usually surrounded by athletes. But what surprises me is how cheerfully they talk about what they’ve given up, the price they’ve had to pay to fulfill their dreams. I hear swimmers casually explain why they have to wear glasses because their eyes were damaged by thousands of miles they’ve swum in chlorinated water. Boxers live with headaches and other ailments uncommon to us even after they’ve hung up their gloves. Gymnasts tell horror stories (with a smile) of ballooning to superhuman proportions after they’ve retired, or not menstruating because of the strain they put on their bodies for love of what they do. Former junior golfers explain how they couldn’t hang out because they had to be up early for their practice rounds. National athletes explained the troubles of seeking school permission every time they had to travel abroad to represent the country.
All in all, is it worth it? That’s the question they hear the most. And, almost always, the answer is a resounding affirmative. But why aren’t these questions being asked of doctors, who spend a sleepless decade in emergency rooms and classrooms before they can even earn a decent living? Or what about lawyers, who have to memorize hundreds of pages of cases virtually overnight? Or soldiers, who spend years in challenging conditions in our various military institutions, unsure of the reward - or even their mere survival - what about them?
Everybody sacrifices. At one point, we all play with pain, physical or otherwise. We complain about basketball players who can’t play because of a mere sprain. But how many of us do that in life, just when we don’t like the hand we’re dealt?
The concept of sacrifice is that you are worth it. If the body is an instrument, athletes merely show us how to fine-tune it. Everything we do is connected with the body, at least until we learn that it is the mind that controls everything. As Cuba Gooding said in "What Dreams May Come," it is the real world that is the illusion. If you work at it hard enough, you gain mastery. That is how we surpass limits, break records, set new goals, go faster, higher, stronger.
But let’s look at the reverse of the coin. If you don’t put in, you don’t get back. Any time you watch a sports contest of any kind, you can almost immediately tell which team is in better shape. Just look at any basketball player, and you can tell if he works out, and how hard. The results speak for themselves. As a spectator, you feel disappointed. You feel you deserve the best that they’ve got, and no less.
Sometimes, we are a bit hypocritical that way. We point fingers at slackers around us, but we sit in our armchairs and don’t do anything ourselves. We live vicariously through our sports heroes, show business idols, and other people we admire. We don’t sacrifice to get what we want, to be where they are, where we could also be. If it can happen to them, why can’t it happen to us?
Can you imagine if we all took care of our health, ate well, slept early and went for our dreams? What if we all picked up a racket, got into a pool, walked twenty minutes a day. We’d not only save billions in health care, but we would get so much more done. We’d have time and energy to walk the dog, play with the kids, visit our parents, write love letters, and feel stronger and sexier. And the funny thing is, we’re worth it. Definitely, absolutely.
I guess I’m talking to you as well as myself. We get knocked around by life so much, we settle for less than what we have. I guess I’m pretty lucky. I make a living by living my life. I do what I love. It’s not always great, not always perfect, but I don’t think I’d rather be doing anything else. I’m always watching people on the cusp of greatness, seeking to better themselves. And it rubs off. So when I feel down, or tired, or sad, or depressed, as many people do (whether they admit it or not), I say a prayer of thanks. I’m doing what I love to do. And I pick myself up, and do it just a litle better.
Aren’t you worth it?
You may reach me through bill_velasco@hotmail.com.