I found it funny, or maybe it was a sign, that my hero was looking back at me when I flipped on the TV the day I came home from the hospital from a high heart rate. He reminded me that it isn’t what you dish out in life. It’s how much you can take, and keep on going. My hero isn’t a rock star who can sing to the soul, or an athlete who can hit fifty home runs or score twenty touchdowns. My hero is fictional, and not real. But he’s been real to me since I could remember. We have something in common, he wasn’t expected to do what he did, and I wasn’t expected to do what I have done. And he inspired me to push myself, and always give it my best shot. It’s not always the one with the most talent that comes out on top. It’s the one with the big heart, and who wants to succeed more that usually wins. My hero, Rocky Balboa, taught me that.