Last week I was in Nashville, speaking at an event as well as tasting the incredible food the area offers. I was working and having a good ole time.
On Friday evening I got together with a friend and client, Ken, who lives there. As Ken and I sat around talking shop while munching steaks and pounding calamari, he explained some of the cultural differences between Tennessee and Florida.
“If you hear someone honk at another car, in order to hurry them along, everyone who lives in Nashville immediately knows the person honking is a tourist,” he said. “Nashville people don’t honk at anyone. There’s no need to hurry. Enjoy your life.”
Those last three words, “enjoy your life,” were used by Ken about fifty times over the next five hours. And they got me thinking about what you choose to focus on.
When I was a collegiate wrestler, I didn’t focus on whether or not I was enjoying myself. I focused on putting in the work that would lead to a national championship.
If someone were to interrupt my training to ask, “Are you enjoying yourself? Are you enjoying your life?” I wouldn’t relate to the question at all.
Of course I was enjoying myself, even when the training was somewhat tortuous. I was doing what I set out to do.
Sometimes the reality of a choice is tough. Sometimes it’s easy to say yes or no; sometimes it’s hard. But enjoyment isn’t the end-all, be-all.
When I was training for the World Kung Fu championships, no one ever asked me if I was enjoying myself, but I did have someone who tried to interfere with my weight-cutting process.
I was sitting in a sauna in Beijing, getting a sweat going to drop the last few pounds before weigh-ins. Once the beads were dripping off my skin, I put on a vinyl suit as well as a pair of cotton sweats. Then I put on a winter cap, left the sauna and jumped on a treadmill.
“Are you okay?” a man asked as he saw the sweat pouring off me.
“Yes,” I replied, looking the other way to stifle the conversation.
“You are sweating too hard,” he continued. “You will be too tired when the competition starts.”
“I didn’t ask for your opinion,” I said.
“Enjoy yourself. Don’t work too hard,” he added.
“Could you please do me a favor?”
“Sure. What can I do to help?”
“Go talk to someone else. Leave me alone.”
I wasn’t in Beijing to enjoy myself. I was there to win a world championship. Winning the world title, as well as the other matches, was enjoyable. Cutting the weight? Not so much. Yet, it had to be done for me to compete and win.
If my highest value was “enjoyment,” then I wouldn’t have bothered cutting the weight. I also wouldn’t have won the title. That’s the way it goes.
Enjoyment is a natural byproduct of creating the results you want. You don’t need to be thinking about it or pondering it. You don’t need to be asking yourself if you’re enjoying what you’re doing. The real question is whether or not you’re getting what you want out of life.
If your objective is to get to a certain weight, you can enjoy all the food you want when you got out with friends. But when you step on the scale the next day, perhaps you don’t enjoy what you see staring back at you. Keep this in mind as you make your choices.
Yes, there are times when your sole objective may be enjoyment, such as a vacation. You’re not attempting to create anything or reach any goal when you’re taking time off from “the grind.” But when you have a goal in mind, there’s no rule that says you must enjoy every step along the way. Some steps are enjoyable and some steps suck. That’s the way life is organized.
Sometimes, even saying no to your favorite food or beverage is a wise choice.
If enjoyment alone is the standard of measurement, I don’t think you’re doing as well as the person who is willing to make sacrifices on the way to the goal. It’s not one or the other; it’s both.
Here endeth the lesson.
Matt Furey
