Discipline

"Discipline is the bridge between goals and accomplishments."  -Jim Rohn

People can say what they want about me...  they can berate me for not being one way or another, they can criticize me for being overly strict or too rigid or whatever they think.  Just like the old football saying "Defense wins championships," I have one to add...  Discipline leads to success.  Sometimes you have to do things you don't want to do to accomplish greater things down the road.  I foolishly married a white trash woman who can't understand this concept.  And because she couldn't understand it, she quit her job and left me.

I made some delicious tiramisu for a work potluck today.  It took a fair amount of effort last night...  grinding the beans, brewing the espresso, whipping the cream, making that awesome egg yolk custard, and all that jazz.  So today I got home with the empty dish, after only eating a few bites of the dessert myself, and I said, "Well that was a lot of effort for nothing."  Then I kicked myself (figuratively) and realized that it wasn't for nothing.  People got to eat something tasty, and TONS of people complimented me on it!  Was it absolutely thrilling making it?  Well I was drinking wine, and I find a lot of joy in cooking, but I'm sure there were more enjoyable things I could have been doing.  Yet tiramisu doesn't make itself, so I had to sacrifice a little.

Just now I did some P90X Ab Ripper.  I remember the first time I did Ab Ripper...  I got a quarter of the way done and crumpled over.  I tore a muscle and couldn't unbend from a 90 degree angle.  My ex-wife basically had to carry me to the bathtub and run me a hot bath.  About 20 minutes in there and I could finally lay back.  I was in ridiculous amounts of pain for weeks.  Basically, it was bad, and people laughed at me.  They told me that me doing P90X would never happen, like I was some kind of bad joke.  They didn't give me a chance.  And now here I am, doing P90X all the time, bench pressing considerably more than my weight, doing pull ups and hanging leg raises and all kinds of crazy shit that I couldn't do before.  I started with 15 push ups.  I can now do 60-70 depending on the day.  I started with 5 pull ups.  I can now do 15 if my old rotator cuff injury will let me (I do admit that P90X is dangerous).  I have no idea how many sit ups I can do, but it's well past 70.  When I started, I was a guy who had eaten at Popeye's everyday for a year, and I had ridiculously high blood pressure and bad cholesterol.  And now I'm here, eating healthy food, on a quarter of the dose of blood pressure meds I was on, 25 pounds lighter, and in great shape.  I had my annual physical yesterday, and the doctor said my numbers were quite literally perfect (except that I could stand to gain a little more weight, but still).  You know I got here?  Hint: it wasn't by sitting on my ass.  It wasn't eating whatever I wanted...  I had to give up the daily Cokes and sweets and my beloved morning Pop Tarts.  I had to give up my amazing fried chicken and fries.  It takes work.  Discipline.  All I ever heard from my soon-to-be-ex-wife was how much she wanted to lose weight and how she missed being thin.  Gee, I wonder how you'd accomplish that?  Hint: not by eating my entire fucking box of Honey Nut Cheerios while I'm asleep at night...  not by draining my WHOLE brand new jar of Nutella while I'm at work, after it's been in our house for less than 24 hours...  and not by sneaking a box of graham crackers down your throat while I'm not looking.  Idiot.

Just thinking about it, I was also getting pissed at some of the things I've done that have gone unappreciated.  I always hear about how women like men who do things around the house and help them out.  Surveys say that many/most women think their husbands should do more to help with childcare and household work.  In both of my marriages, I've always been top notch at stuff like this, and I never got any credit for it.  I thought I could do things right in this marriage, even though I could tell that my wife didn't love me.  On my Fridays off, I'd make sure to have the house spotless (like hardcore cleaning) when she got home, food waiting on the table, laundry done, groceries bought...  usually even a little surprise like some cinnamon or pumpkin bread or a glass of wine waiting as well.  Sometimes I'd try to surprise her by cleaning the apartment while she was asleep so she wouldn't have to worry herself with it on her weekends. And this is in addition to the mowing and yardwork that I did.  Occasionally I might have gotten a halfhearted thanks, but usually it went largely ignored.  Hey, I guess that's better than my ex-wife, who just called me a pansy for doing housework.  Even so, the thing that sticks out to me the most is one of the last times we had together (well, it was a few weeks before she left).  It was my usual Friday off, but I was deathly sick.  My fever got up to 104, and it was BAD.  I couldn't walk across the room to make myself a sandwich; I got halfway there and had to sit down because I couldn't hold myself up.  I had to get on a work conference call at midday, and I was seriously barely conscious.  I slept for hours and woke up still unable to move.  I felt bad because the house was a mess, but I couldn't do anything about it.  So she walks in at the end of the day and says, "The house is a mess."  She hasn't seen me yet, so before I respond, she walks around the corner and says, "What's wrong with you?"  I tell her how sick I am and show her the thermometer.  For reasons I can't fathom, she seems angry that I'm sick...  she makes a face and yells, "Why haven't you cleaned the cat litter?  You know that smell makes me sick!"  That did it.  My vision whited out, and I'm ashamed of how I responded, but when you're in that condition, you tend to be a little irritable.

So now I'll STILL exceed expectations by RAISING MY SON MYSELF.  You know why?  Because I'm disciplined.  I'm focused.  And I deserve more credit than I get, from myself as much as others.  I don't always do the hard things when I need to.  I should have been the one leaving that white trash behind instead of waiting for her to leave me.  It's a hard thing to do, even when someone treats you like that, but sometimes you have to look past the present.  It takes discipline.  I wish I could have convinced my old lover of that.  Sometimes it's best to let go of a marriage to open up better opportunities.  There's no point in staying with a person who doesn't truly care about you...  only bad things can come from it.  I should have taken my own advice months ago.  Even so, it's now time for me to face life alone, unless "some wonder is wrought to redeem me."  I'll continue holding fast to my goals and my dreams, and I'll raise my son right.  I'll succeed in the things I can control, and for the things I can't control....  well, I'll just stay disciplined.  "Attempts must be made, even when there can be no hope."