Every morning on my drive to work I see dozens of bumper stickers proclaiming success, declaring pride, claiming this or that moral high ground, and generally announcing some kind of superiority. A good person is a good person I guess and, with or without the sticker, I reckon a badass is still a badass. Hell, I can’t run a damned marathon.
But there’s something special about the quiet ones.
Last night my truck broke down. I was stuck by the side of the road for an hour and a half and I couldn’t make it to my martial arts club’s 6 PM workout. I felt awful about it because we meet outdoors at a local park and I had all of the equipment and the lights. Last night it was 40° F and pitch black. One of the guys tried to call me, but I was busy pushing the truck and dealing with the problem, so I missed his call.
You know that they did? They worked out anyway.
No equipment? Work around it. No lights? Workout in the dark. No fanfare, no announcements, no excuses, no bullshit. Did they get on Facebook and tout their determination? Hell no. In Cabal Fang martial arts, we call that mettle.
I am more proud of them for quietly doing what they did than I’d be if they climbed Everest and put stickers on their bumpers.
That’s what I call badass.