An Ode to Underappreciated Strength.

Today, I'd like to talk about strength.

Not about the type of strength involved in a max bench press, or in pull-ups or push-ups. You won't find scientific data highlighting this type of strength or find it splashed all over the covers of fitness magazines. This type of strength only reveals itself when some cataclysmic event happens and some deep, deep reservoir of superhuman power is necessary.

Like when your twin daughters get sick.

This happened a few days ago, when both my daughters were bedridden with high fevers. At around 3 AM, I was awakened by some noise. I dragged myself out of bed and saw my partner slowly trudging up the stairs. She was holding a hot water bottle and a little container of children's Motrin. She was also limping, as a desk had fallen on her foot while she was teaching a few days ago, leaving her foot swollen and badly bruised.

"Is everything OK?" I asked, instantly registering that the words seemed wholly inadequate.

"It's fine," she said.

I heard her go into our daughters' bedroom and comfort them. She stayed with them for the next hour, checking their temperatures and reassuring them until they fell back to sleep. Two hours later, she got up, made a huge pot of chicken soup and made them breakfast and lunch. And then, an hour after that, she limped off to work.

If I needed another reminder that I was a (very) distant silver medalist in the Parenting Olympics, this was exhibit "A." And yet, it was much more than that. Even though I'm a writer and a personal trainer, I lacked the vocabulary to describe what I was seeing. Why are there no words to describe the strength, grit, and tenacity that my partner exhibited? These are the same qualities that prevented her from taking time off from work after her injury.

"I feel bad for the kids," she said.

I suppose I could say it's just a "mom being a mom," but that negates the fact that there are a lot of really competent and capable dads and some less than stellar moms. I know many people are vested in that type of binary thinking, but I think those discussions are pretty cliched and boring.

So what are we talking about when we discuss strength? How do we measure it? Or quantify it? How do you measure internal fortitude?

I have friends who have hiked the entirety of the John Muir Trail, competed in multiple Iron Mans, and gone on epic long-distance cycling trips. All of those are impressive accomplishments. But do they require more inner strength, endurance, and tenacity than attending to a sick child? Especially when you're ailing yourself and it's early in the morning? Let's extend the analogy. How about an ailing parent or friend?

I don't have a ready-made answer for that. I don't think it's an unreasonable comparison, however. Anyone who undertakes such epic athletic endeavors has to have a huge amount of fortitude. It requires a different — but not lesser — fortitude to subjugate all of your own needs and attend to the needs of another person. Anyone that stays up the entire night caring for a loved one must share some DNA with a person that runs an ultra-marathon.

One might think that a decade of fatherhood has equipped me with the lexicon to salute my partner. After all, this is not the first time that my own athletic accomplishments have been overshadowed by my partner's maternal prowess.

I'm reminded of an incident that happened over a decade ago. I was having dinner with my partner (who was several months pregnant) and one of our best friends who I call "Father Tobin," in honor of his Irish Catholic heritage and infinite wisdom. I was late meeting them for dinner, and wasted no time in crowing about my bike ride up Mount Diablo.

Father Tobin (who is also a cyclist) took these words in and raised his glass.

"Let's have a toast," he said. "You've just finished an epic ride up Mount Diablo."

I grinned, and we all clanked glasses.

"And now, let's have another toast," he said, and we raised our glasses again.

"While you were doing that, Meirav was busy making lungs, kidneys, and other vital organs."

Joshua Brandt is an Oakland based personal trainer. He can be reached at joshua@joshuabrandtpt.com or (415) 412-7339. 

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