Tuesday, June 10, 2014
adjective, luck·i·er, luck·i·est.
1. having or marked by good luck; fortunate: That was my lucky day.
2. happening fortunately: a lucky accident.
3. bringing or foretelling good luck, or supposed to do so: a lucky penny
My definition of lucky is a little different. Instead, my definition of lucky who includes a younger brother. I used to think he was just "blessed" with athleticism, lucky enough to be in shape, and just happened to be the only one of us kids to get a high metabolism. Some of this is true. He does have a lot of natural, raw athletic talent. I was born pigeon-toed and clumsy. Most of the rest, however, isn't about luck. It's about determination and drive. He TRIES to stay healthy. Works hard for the body he has and has had discipline that I just didn't.
Some of it is luck, but a lot of it is just the person he is.
How I am lucky is now I am benefiting from the drive he has. When he went away for basic training and AIT for the National Guard, not only did he put even more hard work and effort into being the best version of himself, something triggered in him. He suddenly felt it was his purpose to not only get himself in the best shape of his life, but drag us along for the ride.
He came home determined, he wanted his whole family to get on a path to wellness, fitness and good general health. Then that spread to his family and friends. Then that spread to pretty much everyone he meets.
A few weeks ago I "ran" a 5K with my sister and a couple friends. My brother, who could run circles around most people, decided to stay with us the entire race, rather than try for his PR. He ended up coaching my sister through the race, making her run in spurts. Everyone kept saying "wow she brought her trainer along." It's true that my brother wants to be a personal trainer or athletic trainer after the army and college, but he wasn't there as her trainer, he was there as her loving little brother.
This week that little brother has started working out with me, using the CU24 level 1 DVDs by Advocare. Matt expected them to be a decent work out, and probably tough on those of us who are out of shape, and it was. But more than that, they had different levels and endurance phases for all levels of fitness, and my athletic, army-trained brother was panting and sweating and cursing, just as much as I was by the end of the work-out. Day 2's workout was even harder.
We cheered each other on, yelled at the screen together. Shared a few tricks and secrets to recovery after a hard work out (seriously my quads are so angry right now). It was great. And at the end of the day, I have my brother there, refusing to give up, Refusing to quit. Refusing to let ME give up or quit.
So nope, I don't need a personal trainer. I have something much better. I have my brother.