'Navy SEALs do.'


Marc Parent writes the best pice of non-fiction I've read in a long time:
"I heard you went for a run yesterday," I said to Bronco. I took a bite of chicken and nodded. What I'd actually heard is that he had run mile repeats pushing a car, did a five-mile cooldown jog wearing a 100-pound pack, and finished off with an hour of sustained kickboxing. "I've been running a little myself," I continued. I took a sip of the beer. His eyes narrowed and grew serious. "So, you know, I'd love to join you at the end of one of your workouts if you'd let me tag along." He shifted to face me and lowered his head.
"What are your goals?" he said.
I made a squawk of some sort and began to stammer. If you're suddenly asked what your goals are by someone who is not joking—whose eyes are pinned to yours, who is a Navy SEAL—you're abruptly thrust into a lightning-round assessment of your entire life that leaves you giggling in a high, unattractive way. "My goals?" I said. I looked at my beer and chicken and thought about how I'd like to lose weight. That would sound stupid even if my hands were empty. No self-respecting guy tells a Navy SEAL he'd like to fit into smaller jeans. I struggled to say something. I could tell him I'd like to try to be mighty. I would like to be a little more epic, every now and then...
The entire story is phenomenal.

Thanks to Steve D for passing this along.