That Inch

That little white .5-kilogram weight plate there on the end . . . yeah, the one you almost missed . . . it holds the meaning of life.  You just need to be strong enough to accept that reality.  

Only fractions of a percentage point separate the very good from the great and the truly great from the legendary in the world of competitive athletics.  To quote Al Pacino's epic pregame speech from the movie Any Given Sunday:

“You know when you get old in life things get taken from you . . . But, you only learn that when you start losing stuff.  You find out that is just a game of inches . . . Because in either life or football the margin for error is so small . . . the inches we need are everywhere around us.  They are in every break of the game, every minute, every second.  On this team, we fight for that inch.  On this team, we tear ourselves, and everyone around us to pieces for that inch.  We CLAW with our finger nails for that inch.  Cause we know [that] when you add up all those inches, that’s going to make the fucking difference between WINNING and LOSING, between LIVING and DYING . . . And I know that if I am going to have any life anymore it is because, I am still willing to fight, and die, for that inch, because that is what LIVING is.  The six inches in front of your face.”

Fighting for that inch.  That's the name of the game, folks, just ask Michael Phelps, Jason Lezak, or any other great racer.  But it is not enough to fight for that inch only in competition.  The best racers I knew competed ALL THE TIME.  5 a.m. on Monday morning or 9 a.m. on News Year Day, it didn't matter.  Any final repeat "for time" was their time.  They owned it, and they made sure everyone else knew it, too.

People often talk about "the will to win," but anyone can want to win when the lights come on and everyone is watching.  The real racers, however, want to win on those cold rainy mornings in June when everyone else is still tucked away in their warm beds, the spring championship meets just a distance thought.  So my message is simple – race to win every day.  That's how you come to own that inch.  That's how you continue to improve. And that is something I didn't learn until after I was finished swimming.

A few years older and only slightly wiser, I now compete every day for one extra kilo. Good days, bad days, it doesn't matter – try to add just one more kilo to what you think is possible for that day.  Here’s the harsh reality – those little white .5-kilogram plates hold the meaning of life. To paraphrase Al Pacino, "clawing for that inch... because that's what living is." And I'll tell you something else, I have never felt more alive than I do today.

Strong men, one and all.