Vulnerability breeds strength. Not PR-a-deadlift strength, although this is possible, but the courage, practical wisdom, and inner fortitude to keep pushing, moving on, fighting the good fight, keeping perspective, and living LIFE strength. That’s what I’m talking about.
I believe that true glory in life is rising every time you fall. Life is a gift and a battle too. Through this Warrior Movement, I want everyone to know they have the capacity to be SO strong, SO resilient, SO fearless, SO powerful, if they allow themselves to be engaged in the battle of life.
Our battlegrounds are our life. How engaged are you in your own life? How in tune with yourself are you? Are you so busy you don’t really know left from right, Monday from Tuesday? Are your battlegrounds empty and filled with self pity, or are they filled with tools of resilience like people who build you up, good food, a healthy training community, people you can talk to, self-care tools, and quiet?
I ask myself the same questions. My battleground has been mucked with self doubt, regrets, fear of failure, loneliness, loss, but also filled with love, good people, family, education, change, and tools that are helping me get to where I am today.
Every week I coach an adaptive strength class, which is really all about bringing veterans and civilians with invisible and visible wounds together. This class gives me a huge boost of serotonin that fuels my own resilience. I get to learn their stories and see their growth and determination. I get to witness firsthand the sense of feeling normal again and completeness that comes from being pushed and driving towards a mental and physical goal. It honestly reminds me why I keep battling, why I enjoy what I do as a movement/ strength coach and physical therapist, why I am so thankful for my own life and the decisions I made to get here. The road here has not always been smooth and I know many of you can relate.
Let me paint you a picture. My adaptive strength class has many characters with battlegrounds I am slowly beginning to understand. In attendance we have a lovely lady who is a mother of two, a former Marine, a member of Team Red White & Blue who is also suffering from stage 4 adrenal cancer. We have a young man who lost his leg above the knee in Afghanistan, a veteran who used to have alcoholism, a Naval chief who was sexually assaulted by her own peer, a soldier who suffered a mild traumatic brain injury, a Naval Officer who lost part of his leg while serving overseas … the list goes on. All these individuals have been through enough where giving up seemed like an easier option. But they all chose to be on the path to growth. They all chose to enter the arena and work to normalize, heal, share their story, be vulnerable, share their sweat, and share a piece of themselves with me. For this I am grateful.
During the class all you hear is encouragement, some choice swear words, my usual weird jokes, and of course, laughter. At the end we medicate with lacrosse balls, mashing into our soft tissues to help bring blood to our stiff and stressed tissue. At this point in our lives, we do this instead of medicating other ways.
To me and many of the athletes who come to the adaptive strength class, the gym or training ground is what Theodore Roosevelt called the arena. As adaptive athletes we are facing our fears, building ourselves to be engaged in life, and supporting ourselves and others to be stronger in mind and body, and ultimately more resilient. And we are doing it together as a team.
In Brene Brown’s book Daring Greatly she quotes Theodore Roosevelt’s “The Man in the Arena” speech.
“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles or where the doer of deeds could have done better.
The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust, sweat, and blood; who strives valiantly, who errs, who comes short again and again,
because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasm, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause;
Who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly.”
Everyone in this adaptive strength class has stepped into the arena. Everyone who has stepped into the arena has shown vulnerability. You don’t have to be an adaptive athlete, or even an athlete; you have to be a human being who wants to engage in life and live your life to the fullest. You have to be all in and all present!!
Brene Brown writes in her book, “The willingness to own and engage with our vulnerability determines the depth of our courage and clarity of our purpose, the level to which we protect ourselves from being vulnerable is a measure of our fear and disconnection.”
When we search for the perfect time to walk into the arena, it is often too late. We may have ruined friendships, relationships, and wasted precious time.
“Rather than sitting on the sidelines and hurling judgment and advice, we must dare greatly and show up and let ourselves be seen!” Brown wrote.
Allow yourself to fully engage in your life’s battle. Enter the arena, whether it is in the form of a gym or a playing field or something else. The battle doesn’t have to be alone; it can be fought and won daily with your loved ones around you. Searching for perfect and second-guessing your abilities will only take you down a path of sitting on the sidelines.
All you have to be is all in, present, and engaged in your battle arena.
