Some people train for certain sports and I want to train to be

"Some people train for certain sports and I want to train to be able to hold a super heavy electric guitar and carry luggage around myself because I always have to have 7,000 pairs of shoes. Who cares about sports?" These words from Lisa Loeb express a defiant and individualistic perspective on training, strength, and purpose. In a world where the physical training required for sports is often lauded as the pinnacle of achievement, Loeb turns this notion on its head, suggesting that true strength lies not in conforming to societal expectations, but in training for the challenges that truly matter to the individual. The heavy electric guitar and the weight of luggage become her metaphors for resilience, for the personal burden she willingly accepts in her journey as an artist. In her world, the spirit of independence and the pursuit of one’s personal goals are far more important than the fleeting glory of competitive sports.

In the ancient world, heroes were often defined by the physical trials they faced, but also by their personal choices and sacrifices. Consider the story of Heracles, whose twelve labors were both a display of his physical prowess and his endurance through tasks that many would consider impossible. Yet, it was not the tasks themselves that defined Heracles, but the moral lessons he learned from each challenge. Each labor was not just about testing his strength, but about enduring, adapting, and finding a deeper meaning in the struggles he faced. In the same way, Lisa Loeb’s dedication to training for her own personal journey, whether through her music or the practical challenges of life, reflects a deeper strength—one that is shaped not by societal standards, but by her own needs and goals.

This sense of personal strength can also be seen in the life of Alexander the Great. Though renowned for his military conquests, Alexander’s personal journey was about more than just the battles he fought. He was constantly pushing the limits of what he could achieve, whether it was in battle or in the realm of culture, by blending Eastern and Western ideals to form a new vision of the world. For Alexander, strength was not about fitting into a prescribed mold, but about carving a path that was unique to him, one that reflected his personal vision. Loeb’s words echo this philosophy—her training may not look like that of an athlete, but it is nonetheless about strengthening her body and mind to pursue the journey that she has set before herself.

The ancient Romans also had a sense of individual strength tied not only to military conquest but to personal responsibility. Cicero, the Roman philosopher and statesman, spoke often about the importance of personal discipline in all aspects of life. For him, strength was about the ability to balance public duty with private desires, to live a life of virtue regardless of the circumstances. Loeb’s pursuit of personal strength through the act of carrying heavy luggage and holding a guitar resonates with this ancient concept: true strength is not about seeking validation from others, but about self-sufficiency and self-discipline. She does not seek to conform to traditional measures of strength, but to define her own path.

At the core of Loeb’s words lies a lesson about individualism. She suggests that the pursuit of personal goals—whether they involve music, fashion, or even the ability to carry heavy luggage—is a noble form of training. This challenges the prevailing notion that strength must always be physical or competitive. The ancient Greeks and Romans knew that personal virtue and integrity were equally important as physical strength. They understood that the pursuit of one’s own goals—whether personal, artistic, or intellectual—was just as vital to a person’s journey as any victory on the battlefield. Loeb’s embrace of this philosophy represents the freedom to define success on one’s own terms.

The lesson to take from Loeb’s words is one of empowerment. We are often told to measure our strength by conventional standards—by sports achievements, by the way we fit into the physical ideals set by society. But the true strength lies in knowing who we are, what we need, and how we can build the resilience to pursue those personal goals with dedication. Loeb’s choice to train for the challenges she faces as a musician and an individual is a powerful reminder that strength does not have to conform to society’s expectations. Instead, we should define strength through our ability to adapt, to carry our own burdens, and to find meaning in the struggles that truly matter to us.

In practical terms, this means that we must not feel pressured to pursue goals simply because they are deemed important by society. Whether in the workplace, sports, or any other realm, we must identify the personal challenges that matter most to us and pursue them with the same dedication as the greatest warriors or philosophers of the past. Like Lisa Loeb, we must train our bodies and minds for the tasks that we believe are worthy of our energy. This is the true strength—the strength to forge our own path, to embrace the burdens we choose to carry, and to be true to the vision of ourselves we want to become. Through this dedication, we find not just strength, but purpose and fulfillment in the journey itself.