Training is full-on. Some days I really don't want to get out of

Jessica Ennis-Hill, champion of the heptathlon and symbol of discipline, once spoke with refreshing honesty: “Training is full-on. Some days I really don’t want to get out of bed and hit that track again. Sunday and Monday morning sessions are always horrible. But who really looks forward to going to work on a Monday morning?” In these words we see not only the burden of the athlete, but the universal struggle of all humanity — the weight of duty against the pull of weariness, the clash between comfort and calling.

The ancients themselves knew this war of the spirit. The Spartan warriors, trained from youth, woke each day to harsh drills, hunger, and pain. Surely many mornings they longed to stay in rest, yet they rose, because their lives were bound to honor. So too Ennis-Hill reveals that greatness is not born of easy mornings or effortless training, but of rising again, even when the soul resists. This is the eternal lesson: the hero is not the one who never tires, but the one who continues despite weariness.

History gives us countless examples. Think of Winston Churchill during the Second World War. Morning after morning, while the skies of London burned with bombs, he woke to the labor of leadership. Surely some days he longed to remain in the refuge of sleep, but he rose, because the nation depended on him. His duty was not unlike Ennis-Hill’s track, demanding not joy in every moment, but perseverance in the face of dread. From their lives we see that strength is not in loving the labor every day, but in honoring it every day.

Ennis-Hill’s mention of the dreaded Monday morning links the champion with the common worker. She strips away the illusion that athletes are fueled by endless passion, showing instead that their struggle is kin to all who rise for duty. Just as the office worker drags themselves into the week’s beginning, so too the Olympian fights the battle with reluctance. Yet the difference lies in the decision: whether one chooses to remain in bed, or to rise and meet the challenge.

Her words also reveal the truth of rhythm. The Sunday and Monday mornings, heavy with dread, are the thresholds of cycles — the moment when the body and mind must shift from rest to exertion. These thresholds are always the hardest to cross. But once crossed, the labor becomes lighter, the rhythm steadier. The lesson is not to despair at the heaviness of beginnings, but to know that beginnings are always hardest, and therefore always the most noble to overcome.

What, then, is the teaching for us? It is this: do not expect to love every step of the journey. There will be mornings of reluctance, days of fatigue, moments when the calling feels like a curse. But rise anyway. Step upon your track, whether it be the field of sport, the office of labor, or the humble chores of daily life. For it is in rising on the hard days that true strength is forged.

So remember, O seekers of victory: Jessica Ennis-Hill, though crowned with Olympic glory, confessed that her mornings were often full of dread. Yet she rose, and by rising again and again, she reached greatness. Let this be your guide: do not wait for perfect joy to begin your work. Begin it even in weariness, even in reluctance. For in perseverance lies triumph, and in the labor you resist lies the crown you seek.