Victor Hugo

Over my lifetime in sport and fitness, I’ve picked up many lessons and missed out on just about as many. I’ve gone through the same ups and downs you have. I’ve been injured. I’ve had near misses. I’ve been lucky. I’ve set new personal bests. And I’ve failed more times than I can remember. Or care to remember. 

Through it all, I’ve learned many lessons.

Though the soccer pitch or the dingy gym called the “armpit” may not be a place of learning in the traditional sense, the lessons learned were no less important.

It may not be “school”, but teachers are all around us, if we care to learn.

Not all lessons are taught in the classroom

Coaches, teammates, opponents, physical therapists and trainers. Each has contributed in some way. Some forcing me to prove them wrong. Others forcing me to prove them right.

“Sorry Dev, you didn’t make the team, you’re not big enough, not strong enough.”

“Dev, we need you to nail that penalty kick. Don’t let us down!”

Sport granted me the basic tenets to continue to be active throughout my life and how to interact with others. It taught me basics such as discipline, determination and teamwork. It made me work my ass off to compete with those lucky or gifted or tenacious enough to be stronger, better or faster.

The iron taught me something different. 

It taught me to look within myself. To dig a little bit deeper, to go beyond losing fat, building six pack abs and big bench presses.

It taught me to defy gravity.

And isn’t that the purpose of being human? 

To move and fight against that unseen force?

When we stop moving, we start dying.

So keep moving.

Dev Chengkalath