Survival

Pounding [noun] ~ /ˈpaʊn.dɪŋ/

“The continuous, heavy and aggressive effort of pushing through strain or difficulty - until there is nothing left to give"

There is a point right before you wake in the morning, where silence ends. That brief moment before your eyes open — when you feel the weight of a new day pressing in, and the silence is gone.

And there you are. Ready to survive another glorious day.

When I lay down at night and think of the day that just passed, I don’t think about its ups and downs, or what happened at work. I think only of the silence that is about to come. That brief moment of calmness before I give myself in and rest. I may think about how things went, or perhaps what I need to do tomorrow, but rarely for long. I just want that silence to come, to embrace me, to set me free.

But sometimes — really, most times — silence never comes.

When that switch flips and you can’t find that moment of quiet reflection, it burdens you. Because no matter how tired you are, or how much you want to let everything go, you can’t. Distractions keep your head spinning like a roller-coaster with no brakes, and all you want is to clear your mind and stop worrying about everything that might be going wrong in your life.

It is in these moments where toughness and resilience are needed. Because no matter what is going on, no matter how bad it gets, you can’t stop the clock. You can’t just pause and expect nothing will happen. Time is cruel, because it doesn’t care for you or me; it just goes.

Looking back at what I’ve achieved in life and in sport, it makes me proud. But at some point, it stops being a race and becomes part of who I am — regardless of the difficult goals I’ve chased, or the races I’ve prepared for. They don’t matter anymore. I have to transcend them.

Sport found a way to help me through those moments. The freedom of movement, the experience of being with myself in that one space of time where nothing else in the world matters — it helps my soul. Looking at pictures of memories on the wall, I keep pounding like nothing else matters, just staring at them and remembering why I am here, why I need to be here, and most importantly why I can’t stop. No matter what.

I still chase that survival — that day to day, that endless grind, whether in sport, work, family, or life itself. I am by no means perfect; my wife can tell you that for sure. But I don’t want to be. I never will be. Because perfection means there’s nothing left to learn. And nobody has ever lived with nothing left to learn.

Days come and go, and I keep waiting for that silence — that silence that never comes. And I hope that someday it will. Because no matter how resilient you are, or how much you keep pushing and grinding without measure, there is always a point where something has to give. And when that point comes, you better be ready.

I won’t stop until I find it. No matter what I have to do, no matter what lengths I have to go through, I will chase that goal.

Not because it’s worth it. Not because it’s nice. But because I need it.

Thanks for reading.