The Family Man learns from his children.

Today my four year old son played third game in our local city Under 5 soccer league. This is his first experience with organized team sports, and he’s having a ball (no pun intended). My son is not the fastest, most talented, or best soccer player. He didn’t score a goal today and his team lost.

What he did to was give his best effort when he was out on the field. He ran hard, tried his best, cheered his teammates and had fun. When the game was over he said, “That was fun, Dad! Next time I’m going to score a goal!” While disappointed that his team did not win, he felt good that he had shown up, played hard, and given his best.

I got to the gym tonight about 10:15 p.m. At that time on a Saturday night the place is mostly deserted. Only the hardcore guys are there – the ones who come by themselves, know what they’re doing. The college guys, wannabees, the ones who stand around talking and posing, they don’t go to the gym at 10:15 on Saturday night.

I recognized a few of the guys there tonight – I don’t know their names, but I’ve seen them there enough and I’ve given them nicknames. The Aussie – a barrel-chested, tremendously strong guy with a perpetual smile. The Cop – a ripped, powerful guy with huge shoulders and a narrow waist. Their going through their workouts, focused and concentrated. These two, and the others there tonight, are all lifting huge amounts of weight and look like they’ve been doing it for years.

I’m not in their league. While by no means weak, I don’t have the defined muscles these guys do and the weights I lift are warm-ups for them. I really don’t even want to be there tonight – I’d just as soon stay home and watch a DVD or something.

But as I get started I think of my son – showing up, playing hard, and looking forward to improving and getting better. Giving his best, not caring about how good he compared to others, only that he becomes the best he can be.

So I suck it up and go through my routine, putting everything I have into my lifts. And as I go along I realize I am like The Aussie and The Cop. By showing up, working hard, giving my best, I have separated myself from the wannabees and posers. And I feel good about that.

I’ve learned something from my four-year old. Perhaps, too, he has learned something from me.

It’s great to be The Family Man.