What if the best we could do was the best we could do?

We’ve had enough American heroes who, it turns out, were myths standing before us. We didn’t know the whole story – or maybe we did and we pushed aside the sordid details because we wanted to believe someone could be that super-human.

The thing is, we can’t be.

My daughter recently stopped taking gymnastics at a local gym because the teachers were mean. In my discussions with the owner, I explained, “I am not trying to raise a future Olympian. I want this to be a fun way for my daughter to be active.”

I had childhood friends who were forced to play tennis every day on their private tennis court with a private tennis pro their parents hired just for them. All three kids were ranked in the state as some of the top players.

Today, they won’t pick up a racquet.

It’s one thing when you have a gift and you want to take it to its natural ultimate. I get that. But to push beyond what is humanly possible manipulates your constitution, your integrity, your human-ness so deeply that I fear you never recover.

So Lance Armstrong confessed. So what? Why does he get so damn much spotlight – not for confessing and coming clean, but for coming clean because he happened to get caught.

Why do we care? All this proves is that a beloved star athlete fell from grace because he didn’t think he was good enough as he is.

To me, that’s a very sad message.

What if we were raised from day one believing, knowing, living that we are enough?

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