Sunday, July 27, 2008
Slow or Grow
Each day we are faced with choices. How we make those choices not only determines the outcome of the day, but plants seeds that may not grow to fruition for many years to come.
I think back, for example, at my own career. Just one example is how I left my first software company on good terms, and almost ten years later was contacted by the founder of that company to help launch a new business. 10 years is a long time, but the seeds that were planted grew to help shape our lives in the present.
I was out for a jog today. I do three cardio sessions every week. Two of those are on the treadmill. Succeeding there is fairly "cut and dry" because it simply involves upping the speed or the incline and is a very measurable progression.
My weekend jogs are purposefully not so detailed. I have a great GPS watch that measures distance and pace, but I don't wear it. My jogs are to connect with myself, a spiritual journey that I can take the time to reflect, meditate, pray and really plan the week to come.
There is a loop I take that is fairly hilly. I have two options, one is an out-and-back that may be anywhere from 4 to 5 miles, and the other is a full loop that is around 4 1/2 miles with some great hills. I'd been doing the loop for awhile, so when I started my run, I decided I would shoot for the out-and-back.
As I approached "the point of no return" (or rather, the turnaround point) I decided that I didn't want to just retrace my steps and come back, so I opted to make a turn and pursue the loop.
Going that direction leaves me with a rather extreme hill near the end. It was a hot day and I haven't been running in the heat, and I was still sore from some intense training routines, so after 4 miles, coming to the hill I was feeling spent. I had already determined that I would beat that hill, so as I approached, I slowed my pace, took a few drinks from my water bottle, then braced myself for the ascent.
I pushed hard and after what seemed like forever, I made it to the top. If I had any more energy I would have jumped up and down and cheered because it is a tough hill to tackle ... I haven't always made it to the top and sometimes it is a very slow pace, but this time I really nailed it.
After the hill, it was a nice downhill jog for a bit, then a bit of uphill.
My jogs finish on a downhill towards our house, so to make them interesting, I purposefully add a little side trip up a side road that adds a steep hill at the very end (this one is much shorter). It only adds about three blocks to the run but for me, the psychology of having that last little challenge makes the run more interesting.
I was just coming out of the downhill portion and beginning the approach to my neighborhood when I realized that I was aching all over. I was happy about the victory on the hill, but the heat was getting to me, my water bottle was empty, and it felt like every muscle in my body was sore.
It was tempting to just "throw in the towel" and I could have easily justified it by saying, "Hey, I had a great run on that hill .. that's good enough." So my mind explored the thought of walking a short distance, skipping that last little spur, and just finishing there.
That's when I realized it was an opportunity: slow or grow.
I could go it slow. It could finish with a whimper, not a bang. Heck, that last little bit probably won't amount to many extra calories or change how fast I run my next race. But is there something more to it?
Last year I attempted my first marathon. It was an inaugural marathon and everything went wrong. Being a slower runner, I was in the wave of joggers who found that the race wasn't prepared for the unseasonal heat (it was 86 degrees in March) and had actually run out of water and Power Ade. I ran the first 10 miles with no fluids and was feeling it. By the time I did get fluids I had confused my schedule ... any one who runs distances knows that fluid intake can be an art in itself ... too much and you end up bloated and cramping, too little spells danger. I was confused and tried to drink what I could but hit a turn around mile 20 and just felt like I was going to have heat stroke.
You can read about my humbling experience here:
Inaugural ING Marathon Race Report
In hindsight, I think I made the right choice ... many people had to be taken away by ambulance for the exact reason I decided to cut it short.
So today, I reflected upon that challenge and how painful that last leg of the marathon was.
And then it clicked.
I was in pain at the end of this run, but this was a perfect opportunity to push myself out of my comfort zone. Even just those last four blocks represented not the physical difference of taking my body to a new level, but the mental difference of having what it takes to see something through to the end.
This was JUST the opportunity to take something challenging and work through it. So what if I was sore, tired, hot, and aching? I knew in my heart I had what it took to finish the loop as planned, so why was I trying to make excuses in my mind? It wasn't about cardiovascular fitness anymore, it was about heart and spirit.
If I stopped there, what about my next race? What about my next marathon attempt? Why wouldn't I just say, "Hey, I've made it 21 miles, that's 1 mile more than the last attempt, so why keep going?"
Not me. I've said it before, I'll say it again: life is like going up the down escalator. If you stand still, you fall behind.
So I decided then and there that I would be a winner, that I would exercise not just my speed, or endurance, or strength, I would exercise my will and my tolerance for pain and begin training for those tough last few miles before the finish line. I know from my prior training what that feels like, and that even though my goal is many months away, the soil is rich and ready and THIS is the time to plant seeds. Right now.
So I looked up and realized how far I still had to go, and it overwhelmed me. Not good enough. Not the right way to finish. Nope, instead, I would break this down into pieces. So I picked something closer ... that street crossing just ahead. No problem, I'll just make it there and then we'll worry about the rest.
So I pushed forward. Every step felt like I was wading through molasses ... my whole body felt heavy and sore and like each footstep was jolting me, but I did it ... I kept pushing. I made it to the intersection.
Sometimes I think it helps to have cues to reward ourselves for those small goals. This may sound silly, but I decided I would break down that last part of a mile into little chunks, and every time I succeeded, I would shift my water bottle. That's it, something simple, but a sign to myself I'm progressing ... one goal met, so I shifted the bottle from my right hand to the left.
Now I picked the edge of the guardrail. Again, one step at a time. Not worried about everything else - the distance, the heat, only can I make it to the guardrail? YES ... so I got there, now I shifted the water bottle from my left hand back to my right.
Now it was the next intersection. Yes! I had the energy, even up the hill. I made it. Great, turn and head to the next corner. There. Now some down hill, and then that spur I mentioned. I was doing it! I hit the spur, looked at the uphill, and focused on the summit. It was a much smaller hill than the one before, but I was determined not to break my pace and keep pushing. I made it. One last shift of the water bottle, then the downhill. Then the finish line.
And here's something special that happened ... instead of falling into my comfort zone and taking it slow, I decided to grow. And I could walk home knowing I had given it my all. I can relax and feel GREAT this evening because I accomplished something and earned the right to relax.
You see, if I had given up, walked it in, skipped the spur, I would have said, "I did great on that hill" but then that would be it. No victory, no growth, just a mediocre run no different than the other runs. But I don't want any mediocre workouts. I want every one to be the best one. So I would have just settled down, satisfied that I actually trained, but not feeling this elation that comes from not just training my body, but training my mind and will to prove we truly can test and push limits and achieve more than we initially intended.
So I came home a victor, and I knew something even more profound and important: I just planted a little seed for success, because the next time I am on a long run and face a tough challenge, I'll have that experience to draw upon. I can take the energy from that victory and use it as inspiration to overcome the next barrier. I will remember this victory, and the other victories to come, when I need them most at my next marathon attempt ... when it's those last few miles and I have to draw on spirit and place myself in God's care and ask Him, "Thy will be done" there will be that memory that His gift of free will helped me overcome before and will empower me to overcome then.
How exciting! Do you realize you can make every workout, and turn it not into something you DO, or just calories burned, but a truly life transforming experience? The power is within us all.
I think back, for example, at my own career. Just one example is how I left my first software company on good terms, and almost ten years later was contacted by the founder of that company to help launch a new business. 10 years is a long time, but the seeds that were planted grew to help shape our lives in the present.
I was out for a jog today. I do three cardio sessions every week. Two of those are on the treadmill. Succeeding there is fairly "cut and dry" because it simply involves upping the speed or the incline and is a very measurable progression.
My weekend jogs are purposefully not so detailed. I have a great GPS watch that measures distance and pace, but I don't wear it. My jogs are to connect with myself, a spiritual journey that I can take the time to reflect, meditate, pray and really plan the week to come.
There is a loop I take that is fairly hilly. I have two options, one is an out-and-back that may be anywhere from 4 to 5 miles, and the other is a full loop that is around 4 1/2 miles with some great hills. I'd been doing the loop for awhile, so when I started my run, I decided I would shoot for the out-and-back.
As I approached "the point of no return" (or rather, the turnaround point) I decided that I didn't want to just retrace my steps and come back, so I opted to make a turn and pursue the loop.
Going that direction leaves me with a rather extreme hill near the end. It was a hot day and I haven't been running in the heat, and I was still sore from some intense training routines, so after 4 miles, coming to the hill I was feeling spent. I had already determined that I would beat that hill, so as I approached, I slowed my pace, took a few drinks from my water bottle, then braced myself for the ascent.
I pushed hard and after what seemed like forever, I made it to the top. If I had any more energy I would have jumped up and down and cheered because it is a tough hill to tackle ... I haven't always made it to the top and sometimes it is a very slow pace, but this time I really nailed it.
After the hill, it was a nice downhill jog for a bit, then a bit of uphill.
My jogs finish on a downhill towards our house, so to make them interesting, I purposefully add a little side trip up a side road that adds a steep hill at the very end (this one is much shorter). It only adds about three blocks to the run but for me, the psychology of having that last little challenge makes the run more interesting.
I was just coming out of the downhill portion and beginning the approach to my neighborhood when I realized that I was aching all over. I was happy about the victory on the hill, but the heat was getting to me, my water bottle was empty, and it felt like every muscle in my body was sore.
It was tempting to just "throw in the towel" and I could have easily justified it by saying, "Hey, I had a great run on that hill .. that's good enough." So my mind explored the thought of walking a short distance, skipping that last little spur, and just finishing there.
That's when I realized it was an opportunity: slow or grow.
I could go it slow. It could finish with a whimper, not a bang. Heck, that last little bit probably won't amount to many extra calories or change how fast I run my next race. But is there something more to it?
Last year I attempted my first marathon. It was an inaugural marathon and everything went wrong. Being a slower runner, I was in the wave of joggers who found that the race wasn't prepared for the unseasonal heat (it was 86 degrees in March) and had actually run out of water and Power Ade. I ran the first 10 miles with no fluids and was feeling it. By the time I did get fluids I had confused my schedule ... any one who runs distances knows that fluid intake can be an art in itself ... too much and you end up bloated and cramping, too little spells danger. I was confused and tried to drink what I could but hit a turn around mile 20 and just felt like I was going to have heat stroke.
You can read about my humbling experience here:
Inaugural ING Marathon Race Report
In hindsight, I think I made the right choice ... many people had to be taken away by ambulance for the exact reason I decided to cut it short.
So today, I reflected upon that challenge and how painful that last leg of the marathon was.
And then it clicked.
I was in pain at the end of this run, but this was a perfect opportunity to push myself out of my comfort zone. Even just those last four blocks represented not the physical difference of taking my body to a new level, but the mental difference of having what it takes to see something through to the end.
This was JUST the opportunity to take something challenging and work through it. So what if I was sore, tired, hot, and aching? I knew in my heart I had what it took to finish the loop as planned, so why was I trying to make excuses in my mind? It wasn't about cardiovascular fitness anymore, it was about heart and spirit.
If I stopped there, what about my next race? What about my next marathon attempt? Why wouldn't I just say, "Hey, I've made it 21 miles, that's 1 mile more than the last attempt, so why keep going?"
Not me. I've said it before, I'll say it again: life is like going up the down escalator. If you stand still, you fall behind.
So I decided then and there that I would be a winner, that I would exercise not just my speed, or endurance, or strength, I would exercise my will and my tolerance for pain and begin training for those tough last few miles before the finish line. I know from my prior training what that feels like, and that even though my goal is many months away, the soil is rich and ready and THIS is the time to plant seeds. Right now.
So I looked up and realized how far I still had to go, and it overwhelmed me. Not good enough. Not the right way to finish. Nope, instead, I would break this down into pieces. So I picked something closer ... that street crossing just ahead. No problem, I'll just make it there and then we'll worry about the rest.
So I pushed forward. Every step felt like I was wading through molasses ... my whole body felt heavy and sore and like each footstep was jolting me, but I did it ... I kept pushing. I made it to the intersection.
Sometimes I think it helps to have cues to reward ourselves for those small goals. This may sound silly, but I decided I would break down that last part of a mile into little chunks, and every time I succeeded, I would shift my water bottle. That's it, something simple, but a sign to myself I'm progressing ... one goal met, so I shifted the bottle from my right hand to the left.
Now I picked the edge of the guardrail. Again, one step at a time. Not worried about everything else - the distance, the heat, only can I make it to the guardrail? YES ... so I got there, now I shifted the water bottle from my left hand back to my right.
Now it was the next intersection. Yes! I had the energy, even up the hill. I made it. Great, turn and head to the next corner. There. Now some down hill, and then that spur I mentioned. I was doing it! I hit the spur, looked at the uphill, and focused on the summit. It was a much smaller hill than the one before, but I was determined not to break my pace and keep pushing. I made it. One last shift of the water bottle, then the downhill. Then the finish line.
And here's something special that happened ... instead of falling into my comfort zone and taking it slow, I decided to grow. And I could walk home knowing I had given it my all. I can relax and feel GREAT this evening because I accomplished something and earned the right to relax.
You see, if I had given up, walked it in, skipped the spur, I would have said, "I did great on that hill" but then that would be it. No victory, no growth, just a mediocre run no different than the other runs. But I don't want any mediocre workouts. I want every one to be the best one. So I would have just settled down, satisfied that I actually trained, but not feeling this elation that comes from not just training my body, but training my mind and will to prove we truly can test and push limits and achieve more than we initially intended.
So I came home a victor, and I knew something even more profound and important: I just planted a little seed for success, because the next time I am on a long run and face a tough challenge, I'll have that experience to draw upon. I can take the energy from that victory and use it as inspiration to overcome the next barrier. I will remember this victory, and the other victories to come, when I need them most at my next marathon attempt ... when it's those last few miles and I have to draw on spirit and place myself in God's care and ask Him, "Thy will be done" there will be that memory that His gift of free will helped me overcome before and will empower me to overcome then.
How exciting! Do you realize you can make every workout, and turn it not into something you DO, or just calories burned, but a truly life transforming experience? The power is within us all.
Labels: growth, transformation, willpower
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