It was barely seven o’clock in the morning at our weekly Tae Kwon Dow workout.  It was now our time, the time for the designated black belts to perform the graceful, but deadly, flying side kick.  The only thing holding us back from moving forward were a large black gym bag, a 40 foot runway, and our ability to focus on moving our foot through two solid, wood boards. 

Our hearts pounding, sweat pouring down our brow, we could either engage the brain, and determine whether or not we were going through the boards, or we could engage our gut, and focus on nothing but committing to moving through one single, solitary spot.

The flying side kick requires discipline, agility, flexibility, and strength.  More than any of these, it requires commitment.

As I planned my ascent, I thought of the fact that I had never completed a flying side kick.  I thought of what it might feel like if I hit the board, and not go through it, but instead fall flat on my ---.  I thought of letting down my teammates.  My brain engaged, and running a hundred miles an hour, I thought, and thought, and thought.

And then I stopped thinking. 

I remembered the time that I committed to climbing Mt. Rainier.  I had never climbed anything like that before.  I knew of the dangers.  I had some great reasons not to make the climb.  My wife was pregnant.   People die up there.  I had no idea what “the most technical climb in the lower 48” meant. 

Instead of thinking about all the reasons, I committed.  There was every reason in the world for my brain to determine why I could not take a step at 13,000 feet, 13,500 feet, and even at 14,000 feet. 

Perhaps it was the altitude, but my commitment got me up to the peak, not my brain, not my beliefs, not my thoughts, not my training.

Many of us spend so much of our time thinking about all of the reasons and circumstances that we can or cannot achieve the extraordinary.  Many of us stop short of becoming who we truly can become.  We are smart rats who make “intelligent” decisions, due to great reasons, and we find others who agree with accomplishing what seems rational and logical. 

We let our minds determine how far we will go, how pleasurable the experience will be, and how much acknowledgement we will or will not receive.  We are so “smart” that we trick ourselves into “knowing” what our potential will be.

Or, we can choose to follow our commitments.  We can choose to set targets, and think of nothing but achieving them.  We can make doubling our income, creating a loving family, starting a great company, the game called commitment.  I commit, it happens, and so what!

I didn’t break those boards when my left heel punctured the grains in the wood such that the sound was like the “woosh” of a knife slicing through butter.  I broke that board 5 seconds before I started my flight.  I knew in my heart that there were many things that I had completed, where my only reason for completion was my commitment.  I knew in my gut that setting my intent on the prize was all that I needed to obtain it.  All I needed my brain for was to go along for the ride, and watch, listen, and memorize the experience, so that the next time around it will know exactly what to do.  Nothing.