When I was 30 years old, I was an animal. I spent almost 200 nights on the road, trained for and finished a marathon, could bench press 315lbs for five reps (that’s three big plates on each side of the barbell), and hardly ever slept. Like I said, I was an animal. I was also out of balance. I wasn’t unhappy or lonely, but I wasn’t living my best life … and I knew it.
Over the years, I’ve worked hard on balancing my desire to make a difference and the overall quality of my life. Marrying someone who made me feel like I was already good enough was a lot of help. Becoming a father while building a business forced me to balance and be in the moment. Today, I’m happy. I mean really happy. It’s not just the things in my life, but that I’m with them during the present moment. I know things are going to be ok and that I don’t need to worry about outcomes 24-7, and that allows me to take my daughter to get ice cream, and listen to her and taste the vanilla in my scoop.
Being in the moment has helped me make better decisions, too. In the past, I’d be swept up in my thoughts and act stupidly – I’d work out when my shoulder was sore or stay at the office to finish one more thing. Many people still consider me to be out of balance, and they’re probably right. But today, I’m in the moment and choose to live this life, and it works for me. For example, I wake up at 3:45 am on Fridays, but I also spend Friday afternoons with my daughter. Today, because I’m settled in the moment, I’m conscious of my decisions and make the right ones.
Except this morning, and it was awesome …
About ten days ago, I came down with bronchitis. Although the drowsiness and overall aches are gone, my airways are still as full as Warren Buffet’s bank account. However, last night I committed to taking a run this morning. My typical loop is 3.3 miles, and I committed to running 1.5 miles of it this morning. Probably not the best decision, but I couldn’t take it anymore – it’s been almost two weeks since I’ve run and I feel terrible. I thought to myself: “This never would’ve have gotten me down like this 20 years ago. I would’ve fought right through it.” That’s true, but I also would’ve ended up in the hospital with pneumonia 20 year ago – not the brightest thought, but it made me feel good. I was channeling my 30-year-old inner self.
After a long warm up, I started my run. Wow, it wasn’t feeling too bad. I might do the whole loop. After about five minutes, I realized that the mile and a half was going to be a fine goal. After a mile, I was bargaining with myself about settling for a mile. It was painful. My legs and hips were ok, but my chest was pounding. It felt like I had never run before. I must have looked at my Garmin 50 times between 1.40 and 1.50 miles. When I finished, I woke up the whole neighborhood. Not with a shout of joy, but with an explosion of coughs that must’ve sounded deadly to anyone within 500 feet. At that moment, I regretted my decision. I beat myself up for acting like a fool. I thought I relapsed my infection and possibly tore a bronchial muscle (I don’t even know if there is such a thing).
After 90 seconds, I started to feel like a human again. Within a few minutes, I felt pretty good. An hour later, I’m finishing this blog article because of how great I feel. I channeled my 1999 self and it feels great. I’m not going to live that life again, but to visit every now and then can be good. To push myself and remember that deep down I still have the same inner will is pretty cool.
Try it. Don’t go for a run when you have bronchitis, but go surfing, do a ski trip next year, subscribe to a sales training program (I know a good one!), go on a date with your spouse, go to happy hour, read a novel that doesn’t teach you anything, etc. Channel something from those younger days and remember the feeling. It’ll wake up some killer emotions within you and spark you day.
Marvelous Marvin Hagler once said: “It’s a lot harder waking up at 5:00 am to run six miles when you’re sleeping in silk sheets.” Don’t give up the silk sheets, but get up at 5 every now and then to remember how it felt.