QUIETLY WATCHING FROM THE STANDS
To understand my fitness journey is to understand the person I am: Asael Ruvalcaba, also known as "Smiley" Ruvalcaba. For most of my life, sports have been my world. As a kid, I recall having to fight—literally—for a chance to play in the neighborhood sandlot. That’s right, a fistfight. Luckily, I closed my eyes, swung a punch, and connected. To my surprise, I knocked the kid out. That one punch earned me respect and some street credibility in the Southmost area of Brownsville, Texas. From that moment on, baseball and sports became my life.
I was never the tallest, strongest, or fastest, but I had heart. I used every ounce of my skinny frame to compete. I believe I was good at every sport, but baseball became my passion. Baseball gave me some of the best moments of my life and introduced me to my biggest fan—my dad. From Little League to high school, my dad was always there, quietly watching from the stands. He wasn’t much of a cheerer, but his presence meant everything to me.
Fast forward to 1990. I had just graduated high school, and my dreams of playing baseball at the next level were slim to none. Without any college offers, I tried out for the Cincinnati Reds when they held tryouts at a nearby university. Unsurprisingly, I was sent home by the scouts. For the next decade, I didn’t do much exercising. College, work, and life took over, and the effects became evident around my waistline.
On my 30th birthday, I read an article about how muscles naturally start to shrink with age, emphasizing the importance of exercise and strength training. That, combined with my growing waistline, pushed me to begin my fitness journey. I started running, cycling, and lifting. Things were going well until 2006 when I hit a wall—or rather, the wall hit me. That year, my biggest fan, my dad, was diagnosed with prostate cancer. He fought bravely for two years but eventually succumbed to the illness.
I vividly remember a day at the hospital when I told him, “Dad, as soon as you get out, we’re going to drink a beer together.” He responded, “Son, forget the beer. I just want to stand up and walk.” Sadly, my dad never left the hospital. After his passing, I began running—and I haven’t stopped since. His words became my refuge and my motivation to live a healthy life.
For a while, I competed in 5K runs, half-marathons, triathlons, and even a mud race. I’ve checked those boxes, and now I exercise simply to stay healthy. Thankfully, through Twitter, I connected with the FitLeaders movement and Dr. Ryan Jackson. The FitLeaders community keeps me motivated, inspired, and aligned with their mantra: Live Better to Lead Better. This group of educators from across the United States and Canada doesn’t care about titles or positions. Together, we share a commitment to improving ourselves so we can better serve others.
As educators, we must take care of ourselves first—physically and mentally—because servant leadership starts with being prepared to serve. It’s not a job with an ON/OFF switch; it’s a 24/7 process. Our profession demands the very best of us because children’s lives are at stake. I strongly believe in this principle: “Schools were not created for adults to have jobs. Schools were created for kids, and it’s our job to make them great.”
Bottom line: we must make time to exercise. Trust me, I can find a million excuses not to wake up at 4 a.m. for my daily grind. But then I think of my dad, my family, the people I serve, and the FitLeaders community. I see it as both a duty and a responsibility. I have too many people depending on me, and I cannot fail them.
As for my dad, I know he’s still there, quietly watching from the stands.
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