I was raised to believe that hard work is the only constant. It’s the only thing that will get you anywhere close to what you want. I’m not sure if it was this early childhood indoctrination or simply the way I am wired, but I do work hard. I guess it’s all relative though. Suffice to say, in my heart, I feel like I work hard for everything I really want – whether it’s a good career, a house that’s become a home, or happy children. Hard work is the only thing you need – or so I thought so until I learned about passion.
Why do some people work so much harder than others? What possesses certain people to get up every day before dawn to train? Or, what drives others to forget to eat or sleep because of some primal need to create, compose, or innovate. It’s passion. It’s an indescribable energy for something or someone – a kind of cerebral fuel that makes the hard work really just the means to the end goal. It makes me wonder now if hard work is even possible without passion. I mean, who really wants to spend countless hours improving or learning or creating if there is no possibility of win or gain or love.
In my blog entitled, You Inspire Me, I wrote about the high school cycling boys who had a spirit that was beautiful to witness – a spirit that completely mesmerized me. This spirit is something I now know as passion and that which I learned about first hand during my freshman year at Rutgers. When I first got to college, I was a little lost. So, to find comfort, I would get up early to watch the rowers out on the Raritan River at dawn. It was a beautiful sight. I was drawn to its precision. Its rhythm. Its natural flow. After spending a few thoughtful mornings on the banks, I knew I had to be part of it. For one month, I was in a blissful state of sweat-soaked t-shirts, and sore muscles, and calloused hands. I loved everything about being part of the crew team – the smell of the boat house, the way the water droplets hit my shoulders when we lifted the shells over our heads, and the reflection of the sun on the water.
But, I didn’t make the cut. The conversation with the coach went something like this, “It kills me to do this. You are devoted and committed. You’re one of the strongest and you work so damn hard. But you are just too small. How I wish I could only instill your passion in the other girls.” She was right. The best crew teams have tall, thin oarsmen with long arms and legs to get the most efficiency and energy from each stroke. I’d heard rumor that this might happen, but I wanted it so badly that I thought I could just work hard, muscle through and let passion prevail. Sadly, as I walked slowly off the dock holding back the tears of frustration, I realized that having passion could be both a blessing and a curse. How would I reconcile this? I thought as the tears finally flowed.
My question then is: Can passion ever get you what you want without the hard work? Is it a set formula of one part passion mixed with one part hard work? Today, after my morning run, which was tarnished by the effects of a long month of pneumonia, I am really hoping so. You see, the New York City Marathon is in five weeks and I’ve been sidelined by a cough so violent that it strained my ribs, and my back and my training. I hope the passion I have for running, and RunningPretty, and setting and reaching my goals will pull me through without the hard work – hard work that would have had me running a cool 20 miles this weekend instead of a labored seven. If passion plus hard work cannot always get you what you want, is it possible to just rely on passion to get you what you want? Well, I’m hoping maybe just this once. If I get a “passion pass” for NYC, I promise to make up for it the next time.
