In May I graduated from my MA program and ran a
half-marathon. Unused to such levels of
accomplishment, I have apparently been resting ever since, hence the lack of
updates. I noticed, however, in my lull
between Doing Things1 that I never actually thought about what
reaching either of these goals means.
There’s a scene on Parks and
Recreation where Leslie Knope and her team reach a milestone in her
long-running goal of park creation, and Leslie immediately starts rallying her
troops with plans of what needs to happen next.
Ann (that beautiful, flawless mermaid)2 interrupts her best
friend and says, “Don’t you ever just stop and celebrate?”
And she kind of doesn’t, which is one of the reasons we
consistently say Yup to Knope3. But it’s also one of the reasons
Leslie exists irretrievably in the realm of fiction: No one can consistently
maintain that level of energetic optimism without taking a day or two to reflect
and be a little self-congratulatory.
This revelation came to me and I thought, “Parks and Recreation rocks.” Followed by, “Why don’t I reflect on reaching
both of those goals with a blog post.
That way I’m multitasking!”4
Weirdly, a lot of the conversations I’ve had with people
about finishing a half-marathon parallel conversations I’ve had about earning
my MA. And, while I like to think I smelled
a lot better earning my Masters than I did running a half-marathon5,
I still learned a few similar lessons.
People ask you why you
want to accomplish this (and your answer really matters)
Sometimes “why” comes with incredulous support to buttress
the speaker’s disbelief. “Why would you
want to run a half-marathon? That sounds hard and boring.” The same, by
the way, can be and has been said about attending graduate school.6
Often we have to search far back into our memory banks for
an answer to “why.” And there are times
when the motivation is harder to remember than it should be, or maybe our reasoning
sounds idealistic and naïve, or we know that our answer will do nothing to
justify our desires to others.
I decided to run a half-marathon because someone was talking
about training for one, and I immediately thought, “I could never do
that.” After chasing the thought down I
realized instantly declaring my own inability to complete a task was rather
unproductive. There was no real reason I
couldn’t run 13.1 miles – I was certainly healthy enough and already enjoyed
running. I signed up for the Pittsburgh
half-marathon the next day and started training, but I was really training
myself to stop being a premature nay-sayer.
Of course, sometimes when I was on my eighth mile while
training, and it was snowy or rainy or, you know, Tuesday, and I was tired,
then the “why” was buried a little deeper.
I realized in those moments that my knowing my motivation isn’t
important because I need to justify myself to others7, but because I
need to remember my goal to get me to the good days. Knowing I was getting my MA because I believe
education can change the world was helpful on late nights/early mornings in a
library that always smells faintly of body odor and desperation.
To push through the
pain or to take a nap? The struggle is
real.
Early on while training for the race, I got a stress
fracture because trying to save money by running in three-year-old running
shoes is actually as dumb as everyone says it is. Push-through-the-pain culture and an
impervious competitive streak left me unhappily lightly cross-training and
resting, but I knew ultimately a break would probably spare me, well, a break8. There were other times when the “To Rest or
Endure” question was harder to answer.
Did I not want to run today because of a swollen knee or ennui? Knowing
the difference between pain that should be tended to and pain that should be
ignored was a vital part of training, especially in the first few months of
preparing when I was still learning how my body responded to this level of
physical activity.
Academia was a little tougher. As someone who struggles with anxiety and
depression, I am accustomed to weighing internal turmoil against external
obligations, and I had never, until graduate school, learned how to accept that
there would be some moments it would be healthier for me to just stay
home. Maybe being totally isolated in
the dim, aforementioned smelly library would not be the best thing for me
today. Or, perhaps being in a space
where a room full of people share and critique complex ideas with one another
would legitimately be too overwhelming for me at this moment. Of course I also became aware that academia
has an unfortunate habit of cultivating feelings of inferiority and isolation,
and there were ways I could maintain an awareness of and combat this tendency.
Learning it was responsible to sometimes say “Not today, but maybe tomorrow”
was a big deal for me. I also now
wholeheartedly believe in the healing power of the hour-long nap. Because, friend, 2pm is going to happen
whether you’re awake for it or not.
Methods that worked
for everyone else in the universe will not work for you.
You aren’t going to believe this, but a lot of people get up
at 4am to go running. It’s true. Other people totally cease academic work by 7
or 8pm (I strongly suspect these people are also early risers). Before embarking on my journey as a graduate
student or runner, I did a lot of research on how people were successful in
both endeavors. I tried getting up early
to work out or write, but realized that harboring a fatigued hatred of
absolutely everyone and everything by 11am was not worth the Early Bird
title. I found that certain types of
cross-training didn’t work for me – I have always found the elliptical
mind-numbingly boring9 for whatever reason, and so despite the many
advocates for that particular machine, I avoided it religiously. Some of my peers would write their own
responses to texts beside corresponding paragraphs, but whenever I did this I
couldn’t remember what I was responding to, or how “hegemony” related to
anything. I ended up realizing I needed
to write general summaries beside work to jog my memory, even though other
methods seemed more advanced. I
cultivated a heightened skepticism for foolproof, universal routines, since
I’ve yet to find a fool-proof plan that I cannot upend.
Someone will ask what
you want to do now that you’ve reached your goal, and “drink and sleep” are
actually totally acceptable short-term answers.
I think that speaks for itself.
Please take some time today to reflect on cool stuff you’ve
done and prematurely dismissed. We are
sometimes more impressive than we acknowledge.
Happy reading.
1. Well, I was working ten hours a day at a daycare
this summer, but no one gives you a medal or a diploma for that…Just room
temperature applesauce.
2. Sorry to the two people left on the planet who
don’t watch Parks and Rec and
therefore have no idea what I’m talking about
3. Sorry
4. Multitasking: The Only Relaxation a Type A
Person Forgives
5. It’s the little things
6. Mostly by graduate students
7. Although, it was fun to occasionally answer the
“Why would you want to run a half-marathon” with, “You don’t want to run a half-marathon?” and act totally baffled.
8. A little stress-fracture humor for you there.
9. Plus, “Pedal Faster” scrolls across the screen
when you start slowing down to end your workout, and I find that very uncalled
for and discouraging.
