God Does Not Accept Second Rate Sacrifices


This blog post originally started its life as an account of my last year of school, and how because I did not try my best, I got a second rate reward for my minimal efforts. As a began to wrap up that post with a conclusion, I noticed that I was directly contradicting my thesis. Even though I had failed to get into a specific university program, I had also grown tremendously over the year, and so I had nothing to be ashamed about. It is from the ashes of that post that I write this one.

I propose that you fully commit to what matters to you, since it's much more rewarding to receive full compensation for your complete efforts than to receive no reward, or even punishment, for putting in not enough effort. God, after all, does not accept second-rate sacrifices.

I’ve recently started going to the gym again. I had been going previously in the year, but I fell off hard around the time school ended. I ended up losing a lot of my muscle, and my body fat shot up; my level of exercise had changed, but my diet had not.

Before I stopped, I had been going 3 times a week, working the same muscles every time. Biceps, Triceps, Shoulders, and Chest. My diet was almost completely carbohydrates, and not particularly conducive to muscle growth. I did see changes in my body, but they were not fast, nor particularly impressive. It is no wonder then that I stopped. I was not particularly invested in fitness, because I was hardly seeing any of the benefits of that lifestyle.

I am doing things completely differently this time around. I am putting in the work and making the necessary sacrifices that someone who deserves to have a nice body would make. I cook simple, wholesome, protein rich meals for myself. I’m in the gym 6 days a week, running a push pull legs split. I try to train the same muscles with different, more interesting lifts, such that I won't simply fall into a routine and get bored. I do drop sets to get every last bit of growth I can out of my time.

It has only been like two weeks, and I can already say, I’m super impressed. I managed to get to the same bench press that took me 4 months previously in an eighth the time. There is none of that dread that I used to feel as a consequence of going three days a week. Now, it is simply a thing I do every day at a specific time, making it very hard to justify skipping workouts. The ends, now, justify the means.

Few regret failure after an honest effort, but all regret not trying enough and getting exactly what they deserve.

This post is a part of Agora Road's Travelouge, an effort to promote blogging.