Don't quit

"Let's see who can do a hundred push-ups," David said. 

"I don't know if I can do a hundred," I said. 

"Well let's see," he said. 

He set the rules. We would get where we couldn't see each other so we wouldn't be tempted to offer critiques. 

We were in the church sanctuary. We were either about to get the gym key from Dad and play basketball or we'd already played. I don't remember which. But here we were about to compete in upper body strength and endurance in the church.

I went to the rear of the sanctuary, behind the back pew. He was between the front pew and the podium.

I dropped to the carpet and started straining my arms to push my body up and let it back down as many times as I could. 

David was in much better shape than me, or at least appeared to be. I knew he was going to beat me, but I wasn't going to go down without a fight. 

One, two, three ... am I at 100 yet? Four, five, I am not going to make it. Six, seven .... eight ... they're going to find my dead body face down on the carpet behind the back pew of Chunky Baptist Church. 

David will just leave me here so he's not implicated. 

"Why no, Bro. Campbell, I have no idea where your son is," I imagined him saying. "We played ball and I went home, sir."

But I kept going, and kept counting.

I was tempted to just lie down for a few minutes then count 99, 100! And triumphantly tell my rival I had done it. But that temptation didn't last long. We had promised to be honest about our progress and I'd know I had lied. 

I pushed myself as hard as I could. The only push-ups I was really good at we made of orange sherbet. I might could handle 100 of those!

I strained and finally made it ... to 21. That was it. My arms were shaking like Santa's belly on the night before Christmas when he laughed. 

I stood and walked toward the front. David was not in sight, so I figured I'd just watch him finish out the challenge, put up with his ribbing and go on with life.

He was lying on the front pew, hands behind his head, legs crossed at the ankles.

"You already done?" I asked. 

"Yep," he said. "How many did you do?"

"Twenty-one. I couldn't get any further than that," I said. "How many'd you do?"

"One," he answered. 

"One hundred?"

"No. One."

"You only did one?" I asked. "Why?"

"I knew you'd beat me, and I didn't want to put in the effort if I wasn't going to win."

I learned some things from that.

1. I could do more than I thought even if I didn't reach my goal.

2. David was lazy.

3. David and I approached the challenge from different viewpoints -- while we each thought we'd lose to the other, he quit and I didn't. 

Would I have pushed myself as hard if I knew he wasn't doing the same? Probably not. But I was really competing against myself, anyway. 

I am absolutely guilty of giving up at times when I thought I wouldn't win. And every time I gave up, I proved myself right -- I didn't win. But when I pushed myself anyway no matter the outcome, I have never done worse than I expected but have often done much better.

I guess I just want to tell you today not to give up. Push yourself to go farther, be better, accomplish more. And you will.

Just don't quit.