when i was just a wee lass of maybe 14, my father handed me a dumbbell. it was some random dumbbell, whatever weight, and he asked me how many times i thought i could curl it.
sporty spice that i was, i picked a high number–say, 50–and he handed me the weight and told me to do it.
the challenge was on. i curled and curled that thing. and curled and curled. and maybe around 43, i got sooooooo tired. but i was determined to hit that 50. number 47 takes a minute to complete. 48, i think my arm might break off. 49 ,and i’m barely able to move. then…voila! 50! and i immediately dropped the weight to the floor, every ounce of my energy completely spent.
my dad congratulated me on a job well done, a goal accomplished.
and then he told me something that has stuck with me for the rest of my life…
you see, he had taken some random dumbbell of some indiscriminate weight and asked me to take a wild guess at what i could do with it. now, what are the chances that my 14-year-old mind–with no sense of what it means to curl a dumbbell, much less 50 times–was able to perfectly and so accurately calculate exactly how many reps i could do?
fact is, i’ve always been a goal-reacher. it’s in my blood. i said 50 and i did 50.
so, what would have happened if i had said 100? would i have made it to 100? and if i had said 40, would i be dying on 40?
bottom line, it’s great to have goals, but always remind yourself that goals are not limits and like everything else in life, they can be handily and valiantly surpassed.