There are (at least) two versions of me.

The first wants to do good, be better, succeed, be the person I know I can be (Heroic Self).

The second wants to do nothing beyond binge serial killer documentaries, have questionable Chinese food delivered to my door, and adopt all the cats (Lesser Self).

Most of us have (at least) these two competing versions. Sometimes the first wins, sometimes the second. When the second starts to dominate, winning out more often than the first, that’s when I find it’s easy to spiral. Depression, the attitude of “screw it, I’m already down, I may as well get comfortable.”

Certain things pull me back up. The inner fire, the fear of disappointment, the dread of someday regretting a potential left unrealized.

The greatest inspiration, though, the reason I haven’t yet seen all the serial killer documentaries or adopted all the cats, is the person beside me.

Mike doesn’t motivate me because I’m afraid of disappointing him. He never judges and always encourages. He is fair and honest and selfless. Our marriage does not include manipulation or keeping score.

He motivates me by example.

There was a time when I thought of myself as driven. Looking back, I had no idea what the word meant.

His drive doesn’t confine itself to one area. He channels it in all aspects of life. He’s constantly striving to improve:

1. His mind (reading, writing, critical thinking).

2. His body (I thought training for our upcoming 13-mile race was sufficient, he added in pull-ups and 100 burpees a day).

3. His businesses (this one requires constant focus, because surely there’s a cap on the number of LLCs one can have).

4. His relationships (with me, with our daughters, with the people he values and respects).

When Mike experiences a win, he doesn’t rest or pat himself on the back. He doesn’t look for validation. He accepts his win and moves on to the next challenge.

Living with someone like Mike is rewarding, exhausting, and motivating.

All at once.

And anyone acquainted with us knows that we are far from all-work-and-no-play. When it’s time to enjoy, we go big. We play hard.

I still gravitate to serial killer documentaries. The fact that I can have food delivered to my door at any time is amazing. (To be honest, I don’t really want to adopt ALL the cats.)

But when you have a constant example beside you of someone who is more prone to being his Heroic Self than his Lesser Self, it’s hard not to follow suit.

That means often turning away from what would be far easier and more comfortable. But I’m lucky to have that example in my life, even when it means tackling what’s difficult.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way.