My entire family is in-shape. I’m not just talking about fit. One of my brothers looks like a GI Joe action figure, the other one like an Abercrombie poster, and my mother, who is remarried to the captain of the Seattle fire department, could probably summit Mt. Ranier as a day hike.
I’m not terribly out of shape, but let’s just say I’m doing my best to thwart my good genes. I love sports, but hate exercising without a tangible purpose. To qualify, exercise must involve an inflatable ball of some kind and a moderate to high-level of competition. Running, in and of itself, is not my cup of tea. In fact, running is everything that I dislike about other sports that I play, wrapped up into an activity of its own. Furthermore, running up or down stairs is like distlling my dislike into its most potent form. Unfortunately for me, my family feels otherwise, and regularly ropes me into these kinds of painful activities.
If you live anywhere near a stadium that is open to the public, or easy to break into, then you have probably heard the phrase, ‘Run the stairs.’ This phrase indicates an activity where an individual will start at one side of a stadium, running up one flight of stairs and down the next until they have circuited the entire venue. ’Running the stairs,’ is a special kind of self-torture that I wouldn’t wish on anyone. Unfortunately, with my family’s fitness background, there is no way for me to escape it.
The first time my brother asked me if I wanted to go, ‘run the stairs,’ everything inside of me was screaming, NO! But not wanting to be outdone by my little brother, of course I had to accept. We arrived at the stadium which is built into the side of a hill, the height of which is emphasized by a miles-long panoramic view of the Puget Sound. For me at that moment, it was hard to appreciate anything beautiful when I knew that torture was right around the corner.
Imagine my relief when the wrought-iron gates at the top of the stadium were locked. I thanked my lucky stars and began to head back to the car when brother asked if I was coming. I thought he might have been joking, but my hopes were dashed when smiling, he blithely hopped the fence and waited for me on the other side.
As we started running the first flight of stairs, I was surprised that I was actually enjoying myself. I had this feeling like I was soaring on the wings of eagles-like I could conquer the world. 20-minutes later, 15 flights of stairs into my repititious tour of the stadium, and with lungs burning, I desperately wanted to quit. In fact, I had wanted to quit for the past 19 minutes and 30 seconds, about halfway up the first flight. Sweat pouring down my face, I looked up, wheezing, and saw my brother who was many flights ahead of me and nearing the end of the stadium. I had hoped he would quit before the end, allowing me to do the same, but in that moment, I knew that I had to finish. I literally gritted my teeth and set my mind to finishing the last 15 or so flights.
Suddenly, the last length of stairs loomed up ahead of me. I didn’t know how I had made it that far, but there it was. I began to stumble up the final steps and nearing collapse, made it to the top. My brother smiled at me and gave me a sweaty one-arm hug. If I had had the energy, I would have punched him. Then, all of a sudden, I got that feeling again - the euphoria, like I could do anything. It was simultaneously a feeling of power and accomplishment.
In that moment, I had an epiphany about perseverance. It’s a word we hear often, and its a quality often pursued. I’ve heard more than a few people talking about wanting to learn or develop perseverance. What I don’t think many of them realize, is that perseverance presupposes that at some point, you will want to quit.
Whether it’s the lungs-burning, wheezing, desperation that you feel when doing something crazy like running the stairs, or a project that’s not going as well as you hoped, or a business you’re trying to get off the ground with obstacles seeming to come out of the woodwork, we are human. We are going to feel discouraged and defeated at times. We are going to feel that we want to quit.
I’m not talking about mild discomfort, or the feeling of working harder or longer. Perseverance is when almost everything inside of you wants to stop, give up what you’re doing, and quit–but you don’t. Perseverance is keeping that part of your attention that matters, focused on your goal. It is having a strong enough reason for doing something that when you feel like quitting, you still achieve it.
Most people never develop perseverance because they are governed by their feelings at the moment. They let life happen, and they let life pass them by. Real accomplishment, and I mean the kind that you are proud of, takes perseverance. But the only way to develop this quality is to have a strong enough reason for accomplishment, that you are compelled to succeed.
So today, review your goals, and consider for a moment what it will feel like to accomplish them. If you feel nothing, then set new goals! Do it now! A clearly articulated and burning desire will fuel your perseverance and keep you from quitting when you desperately want to.