Growing up I remember I’d often see this poem my dad had…
My dad was a kickboxer so he had all sorts of fighting memorabilia all over the garage where we’d work out.
This poem, in particular, stood out to me. It was there to encourage you when you were ready to give up, when your will was gone and when you felt you had nothing more to give.
When I was younger I couldn’t grasp the depth of what was being said. I thought it was about boxing. now that I’m older I see there is so much more this applies to than a boxing match or pushing yourself to work out a little bit harder than you think you can.
It’s a poem about life.
Life is hard. It’s going to hit you with all it has. It’s not for the weak and anyone who wants something great out of life will need to earn it.
Turning your dreams into reality will cost you blood, sweat, and tears. There will be times of self-doubt, defeat, and brokenness.
The only way to get the life you are seeking is to push through those times of trial and wilderness… through the dark night of the soul… through the pain and emptiness.
The only way to accomplish something great is to do the things those who remain mediocre never will.
You have greatness in you. The only way to bring it out is through the crucible of trial and perseverance.
I can’t wait to have a workout room of my own where I will hang this up for my children to read and be inspired by.
Fight one more round. When your arms are so tired that you can hardly lift your hands to come on guard, fight one more round. When your nose is bleeding and your eyes are black and you are so tired that you wish your opponent would crack you one on the jaw and put you to sleep, fight one more round – remembering that the man who always fights one more round is never whipped. -James Corbett
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