I've always been in awe, and jealous of, the way athletes seem to swagger as they leave the field or arena after a good, hard-fought, contest. A sort of devil-may-care way of walking, often a towel over their shoulders, seeming to project the idea of supreme confidence and indifference to what other people might care or think about them. Except perhaps the other guys in the locker room, where the air is filled with banter and tired laughter.
That came to mind at the gym yesterday as I had finished a grueling (to me) hour of spinning on a stationary bike, having been pushed close to my limit by an instructor who, while nice enough in person, kept pushing us to go faster and harder than we (or at least I) thought I could. I kept up, occasionally wiping sweat from my brow and stealing fast sips of my electrolyte drink. Then the hour was up.
I'm no accomplished athlete, never participated in any formal sports at school, and as a boy and adolescent was the classic nerd, the kid who never got over his fear of being hit by a baseball (a sort of self-fulfilling prophecy in that if one closes one's eyes and flinches one is likely to get hit). My only real athletic activity since mandated high school classes, has been bicycling, and that with less than full commitment. Now, nearing my promised "three-score-and-ten", I know I will never reach any formal peak of accomplishment, will never win any trophy, except, perhaps, if I live long enough to be the only entrant in the 90-and-over category of a short road race.
That said, when I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror walking out of the cycling room, towel over my shoulders, a not-quite-blank expression on my face, and an indifferent tone to my stride, I realized that what I had always taken for "swagger" could be (and in my case was) nothing more than exhaustion, a feeling of having left it all out there, and with no more pressing concern at the moment than to get to the showers and begin to recover. And to share some good-natured, high-toned, banter with my teammates.
If there be a moral to any of this, it's an old but true one. It's far too easy for me to presume what other people are thinking and feeling, simply on the basis of what I see and project. I need to experience what they are experiencing before I can even presume to know.
I need to walk, or perhaps to pedal, a few miles in their gym shoes.
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