Friday, August 15, 2014

The Short Shelf-Life of the Realized Goal

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.

2 comments:

  1. I cannot express how much I love your writing. It's encouraging and insightful and freaking hilarious. Thanks for the pick up; I will be celebrating a few recent accomplishments myself tonight. :)

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  2. Thanks so much! I so appreciate the comment. And you should definitely take some time to celebrate a few of your many accomplishments!

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