Conquering The Death Crawl

One of the blogs I read daily is Randy Ingermanson’s. He is one of my daily sources of inspiration and wisdom in how to write fiction. He just put a very inspiring post on his blog, so be sure to go and read the whole thing.

Anyway, here is the part that got me:

Randy sez: I hear what you’re saying here. The word “try” is certainly ambiguous. But I like his main point, which is that all too often, “try” is just an excuse for “not taking action.” If I ask my daughter to feed the cat, I do NOT want to hear her say, “I’ll try.” In that context (when it’s a simple matter of doing something she knows how to do), the words are just a lame way of saying, “I’m not going to do a darn thing.”

I’m guessing a number of you have seen the movie FACING THE GIANTS. It’s a “Christian inspirational football movie” if there is such a genre. The acting is kind of spotty, and it’s not going to be everyone’s cup of java, but I find it inspiring. There’s one scene that I really love.

The coach is telling his team how they need to commit to the team. He challenges the captain of the defense, a guy named Brock, to do the “death crawl” for 50 yards. (The death crawl is where you have to crawl on hands and feet… no knees can touch the ground… while carrying another guy on your back.)

Brock says he’ll try. The coach says, “No, I want your best effort.” Brock agrees to give his best effort. Then the coach blindfolds him so he won’t know how far he’s got to go and won’t give up until he’s totally exhausted.

Brock agrees to this while his teammates smirk. Nobody is taking this seriously.

The death crawl begins, and pretty soon Brock is getting tired. The coach keeps telling him, “Your best effort, Brock. Give me all you’ve got. Your best effort!”

This continues for yards and yards and yards. Pretty soon, the teammates aren’t grinning. They’re on their feet watching Brock crawl and crawl and crawl some more.

The coach is hollering, Brock is sweating. The coach hollers some more. “Give me all you’ve got!” He counts down how many more steps to reach the goal: “Ten, nine, eight, seven . . . down to zero.”

When he gets to zero, Brock collapses. He’s lying there gasping, asking if he made it fifty yards. The coach takes off the blindfold and says, “Look where you are, Brock. You’re in the end-zone!”

And he is. Brock’s gone twice as far as he thought he could. He’s learned that he can do amazing things, but “trying” isn’t enough. “Trying” would have got Brock 20 yards. Brock didn’t merely “try,” he acted. He kept on taking action… far beyond what anyone thought he could do. Except that darned coach, who knew all along what Brock could do.

Folks, don’t settle for “I’ll try.”

Thanks, Randy!