Living Life, Learning Lessons

When I was in the 6Th grade the President, Jimmy Carter I believe, started promoting a new fitness program for youth. Part of the program was a test at the end. You had to run a specified distance, throw a softball and hang from a chin bar (boys had to do pull ups).

I was fairly "sickly" (as the old folks would say) as a child. Sometimes going outside to play could very literally be a matter of life and death. I remember many times being rushed to the doctor after just a regular afternoon of being out.

So, the fitness test seemed to be pretty much out of the question for me.

Now, the rewards for all this "fitness" were patches. Not sure where you were supposed to put the patches but there was white for the third level, red for the second level and the Presidential medal for the top level. Your level was determined based on how fast you could run, how far you could throw and how long you could hang.

I really couldn't do any of the three.

And the prospects of achieving of these skills in a really short period of time were fairly nonexistent.

My 12 year old brain thought surely if my doctor explained to the teacher that I couldn't physically participate then I would be excused and there had to be patch for that.

Had to be.

That was 30 years ago. In today's society I probably would have been correct. Now everyone gets a reward just for participating. (Some of you may argue with me but you know deep down that I'm right.)

But my 12 year old brain didn't think it was fair to be "punished" for something that I couldn't do. It wasn't that I didn't want to or wasn't trying, I just couldn't.

To both my parents' credit, they agreed to let me "train". This had to be hard for them. I'm sure that every time Daddy and I went to the high school track for me to run 40 yards or we went out in the front yard to throw the softball they probably held their collective breaths. A parents' first instinct is to protect their child and those asthma attacks could sneak up almost without warning.

And inhalers for kids weren't invented yet.

Daddy and I worked for whatever time we had, maybe a month or so, and then the big day came.

And I did it.

I earned a white patch.

I doubt there were any extra seconds on the run or the hang and no extra inches on the softball throw, but I did meet the minimum requirements.

I had achieved what I didn't think I could.

This story occurred to me as I was jogging the other day.

Yes, I said it - jogging. She who couldn't run to the corner and back can almost run a mile and half now.

And I thought to myself, what if I'd been allowed to just get a patch for participating? What if Mom and Dad hadn't been willing to let me try? I'm sure one asthma attack would have put a stop that. What if I'd been willing to settle, to not push myself?

What are children learning today - those that don't get to keep score so no one loses, those who all get a reward no matter what they do or don't do? They may not ever learn to see what is on the other side, to see what all they are capable of, to know the real feeling of accomplishment.

And I think that's kind of sad. Everyone needs a goal. We need to be able to handle defeat and feel the pride of achievement. Because life is full of both. We all need to push ourselves a little and expand our boundaries and horizons. Not just always accept the situation on its face but work to do things better or differently. Challenge ourselves.

What is life without a challenge?

I hope I never find out.