Dare mighty things
This is the year of daring mighty things.
I’ve just decided.
I don’t make New Year’s resolutions, but I resolved myself several months ago, after Segundo was born, that I am going to lose 50 pounds and drop the weight of two babies and too much laziness that I’ve accumulated over the past three or so years. So I’ve been getting my money’s worth at the YMCA for about five or six weeks now; Zumba, Turbokick, Pilates, MusclePump–if they offer the class, I’m taking it, in addition to the ridiculous circuit workouts that C. designed for me. We go to the gym together every Saturday, where he kicks my butt. I literally feel ill after working out with that machine I’m married to.
I’m not anywhere near my goal yet. In fact, I don’t think I’ve dropped any weight at all yet because I’ve been gaining stupid heavy muscle. But I feel good. I am getting faster and stronger. And I can dance better (or at least I like to tell myself that).
As the good Theodore Roosevelt said:
In the battle of life, it is not the critic who counts; nor the one who points out how the strong person stumbled, or where the doer of a deed could have done better.
The credit belongs to the person who is actually in the arena; whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; who does actually strive to do deeds; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotion, spends oneself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement; and who at worst, if he or she fails, at least fails while daring greatly.
Far better it is to dare mighty things, to win glorious triumphs even though checkered by failure, than to rank with those timid spirits who neither enjoy nor suffer much because they live in the gray twilight that knows neither victory nor defeat.
So what about you? What mighty things will you dare this year?