I recently learned I have the resting heart rate of an Olypmic Athlete. I thought this was a rather fun fact, and so after sitting on it for a few days, I proudly shared it with someone I met last night.
And he replied, "Oh, is it somewhere between 40 and 50?"
"Yeah, actually. My doctor told me last week it is 45." But I was rather surprised this guy knew anything about resting heart rates. I didn't think it was something people know much about. I mean, I've been talking for over 3 decades now, and to my knowledge, I've never had a conversation about resting heart rates.
The guy picked up on my surprise, and explained, "Yeah, the only reason I know is because I tried out for the Olympics."
That's when I felt less than cool with my fun fact. I was in the presence of a near Olympic Athlete. He admitted to not making it, and I admitted to never trying out. But wow, so fabulous that he went after the dream. Leave it to New York to be surrounded by some of the most ambitious and driven people in the world.
But currently, rather than embracing my natural inclination towards the ambitious life, I'm in survival mode. It's 8:30 PM in the evening, and I still don't know where I'm sleeping tonight.