Being a winger or a wide mid, I have to run continuously for 90

"Being a winger or a wide mid, I have to run continuously for 90 minutes, which not only takes endurance but also strength in my legs to be able to be explosive for 90 minutes. I think weight training has really allowed me to sustain for those 90 minutes." Thus speaks Megan Rapinoe, champion of the game, whose words are more than an athlete’s reflection—they are a hymn to discipline, to preparation, and to the marriage of body and will. She reveals that greatness is not a fleeting moment of brilliance, but the capacity to sustain brilliance over time, to remain sharp when others fade, and to meet the final whistle with the same fire as at the first.

The ancients, too, would have understood this wisdom. The gladiators of Rome, the marathoners of Greece, the warriors of Sparta—all knew that battle is not won by a single strike of the sword or burst of speed, but by the ability to endure when the hours grow long and the body grows weary. Endurance alone is not enough, for without strength, one becomes slow, dulled by fatigue. Nor is strength alone sufficient, for without endurance, one collapses before the fight is done. Rapinoe teaches that true mastery lies in the union of both—strength to act, endurance to sustain.

History bears witness to this truth. Consider the story of Pheidippides, the Athenian messenger who ran from Marathon to Athens to deliver word of victory. His triumph was not a single explosive stride but the relentless courage to press on for the full distance, carrying not only his body but the hopes of his people. So too does Rapinoe’s calling as a winger demand both fire and persistence: the sprint down the flank, the cross delivered with precision, again and again for the span of the match. Her preparation in the quiet discipline of weight training makes possible the glory witnessed under the roar of the crowd.

Her words also unveil a deeper truth: that greatness in any endeavor requires unseen labor. The audience marvels at the ninety minutes of brilliance, but the unseen hours—the repetitions, the sweat, the iron lifted in solitude—are what make the spectacle possible. The ancients knew this, too. The Olympic victor wore a crown of laurel, but the crown was not won in the arena alone. It was forged in countless unseen hours, in discipline as steady as it was unseen. Rapinoe’s testimony is a reminder that the unseen work builds the visible triumph.

There is also within her words the call to resilience. For ninety minutes is not only a measure of time—it is a metaphor for life. Each soul must endure seasons of struggle, where strength and endurance alike are tested. To prepare, one must train not only the body but the heart, the mind, the spirit. Just as Rapinoe conditions her legs for both explosiveness and sustainability, so must we condition our inner selves to face trials with both resilience and courage. The ninety minutes of life’s great battles cannot be won with half-prepared hearts.

The lesson is clear: if you would succeed, prepare not only for the beginning but for the end. Build strength for the moment when action is required; cultivate endurance for the long march of trial. Do not despise the hidden labor, for it is there that greatness is formed. Let your life, like the athlete’s body, be honed through steady practice, so that when the great test comes, you may not only start strong, but finish stronger still.

Practically, this means committing to daily disciplines that strengthen both body and spirit. Exercise your body, yes, but also exercise your patience, your persistence, your courage. Do not wait until the match has begun to prepare, but live every day as training for the great moments to come. And when fatigue whispers to you, when doubt says you cannot endure, remember the lesson of the field: that the strongest strike, the clearest vision, often comes at the end of the ninety minutes, when others have fallen and you remain.

So let Rapinoe’s words be passed down: “Endurance and strength together sustain the ninety minutes.” Teach them to your children, that they may learn patience as well as power. Share them with your companions, that they may know the value of unseen labor. And whisper them to your own heart, when the struggle grows long: “I will endure. I will be strong. I will finish the ninety minutes.” For in this lies the path to victory—in life, in battle, and in the field of every noble pursuit.