The most recent Question of the Week was a great one. At first, I wasn't sure how to respond. Mike's response was good, but it was missing something I couldn't quite pinpoint. I knew what the answer should be, but that wasn't right, either. In today's ultra competitive society, we're taught that winning is everything. Whether it's in athletics or Corporate America, 'anything to win' is the saying du jour. But in a sport like strongman where you're competing against as many as 25-30 competitors at any given contest, expecting to win every time isn't only unlikely, it's extremely arrogant.
So why would anyone compete in a sport where the expectation of victory is minimal? Victorian author and social critic, John Ruskin summed it up best:
"And so with all other brave and rightly trained men; their work is first, their fee is second-very important always, but still second. . . And this is no small distinction. It is the whole distinction in a man; distinction between life and death in him, between heaven and hell for him. You cannot serve two masters;-You must serve one or other."-From the lecture "Work" in The Crown of Wild Olive
Though it was written a century and a half ago with sociopolitical connotations, Ruskin's words ring true for today's athletes. In a sport where a few feet can mean the difference between first place and fifth place, success can't necessarily be measured by the number of trophies on your mantle. Instead, a better gauge of success is personal progress. If a competitor places all of his focus on winning (the fee) rather than his personal progress (the work), he will lose sight of what should be his ultimate goal: self improvement. Even if a competitor is a consistent winner, others are spending countless hours in dingy gyms pushing themselves to new limits. If the top dog isn't constantly focused on improving himself, he will soon be surpassed. It could be argued, therefore, that personal improvement is the better measure of success. After all, personal records often supercede the final point standings; even in victory.
My first contest win was one such instance. I'd won the first event of the day, giving me the advantage of going last on the second event, the log press. Traditionally my worst event, knowing the number of reps I'd have to put up with the 225 lb log to secure the victory was a huge advantage. Before that day, I'd never pressed a log that heavy for more than two reps. When I stepped up to the log, I knew I'd have to double my previous best to win the event, which is exactly what I did.
When I got to the 4th rep, I had a decision to make; should I stop with four reps and the win in order to save my energy for the remaining three events, or should I keep going and find my true limit? While I suspect I had at least three more reps in me, I opted for the former. At the end of the day, I had the biggest trophy in my hand, but I was still disappointed. How could I gauge my future progress in the log press if I didn't know my current limit? The trophy certainly wasn't going to tell me. The fee was less important than the work.
In the end, we all set our own standards and goals. It's only when we adhere to a strict, rigorous work ethic that we meet our goals and push our standards ever higher. Those are personal wins that can be had every day. With time, hard work, and a little luck, that larger victory that seems to loom out on the horizon becomes attainable. Without the work, that victory, if it ever comes, may be hollow.
Posted by Ben Hanson at 9:57 AM