Commit and don’t quit. It’s as easy as that...right?
My goal is to be a writer who runs, not a runner who writes.
Since I run more than I write, I have it backward, but I’m learning…
Running is hard, writing is harder…at least for me. It was harder to publish 10 posts than it was to run 100 5Ks. Writing is related, but also quite different from running. I don’t draft, edit, and publish my runs; they aren’t public. While the subject of running has become writing food for fodder, hardly anyone sees me do it. Writing and then sharing it online is a much more vulnerable process. The equivalent of a bad post is like pooping your pants in public. That’s how I see it. But honestly, half of the fears we have are crap. I have to remind myself of this every time I sit down to write.
The truth is, if I crapped my pants running, hardly anyone would notice. People just don’t pay that close attention to details. Yes, it’s almost happened twice. As a runner, you need to know where your emergency exits are at all times. This isn’t crazy talk…I have confirmed this with competitive runners I know. My point is, as a writer, I assume everyone will find every flaw in a piece and laugh in my face. The reality is, most of you aren’t even reading every word in this sentence. So, what’s the fuss? I am inventing fears to feel good about not trying my best. That’s the real crazy talk. Our minds play every trick in the book to get us to quit something hard, something important, or something we have a little fear of doing. This happens with running – try to lace up your shoes and get into the right flow; it’s tough! This happens with writing as well – try to sit your butt down and let your thoughts run free; it’s tough!
AP Updates has been a playground for me to practice writing and to get comfortable sharing this imperfect art in public. Thanks for coming along for the ride. If you enjoy it, smash that like button and subscribe. Just kidding. Do we really have to say that? So much of self-promotion makes me cringe. Anyways, if you like a post, share it. I’m “learning in public” with the hope that others will see it and learn with me. If you don’t like a post or don’t want to share it, I’m good with that, too. I’m just happy I actually pushed send, and you are reading something I wrote. As I continue to develop the discipline to write (as I have with running), to resist the fear of failure, and take a leap of faith to publish, I hope you’ll gain something positive from each post as well…
There are two quotes from the book “Art & Fear” that I think about often in my quest to write…and could apply to just about anything you choose to pursue…
“Basically, those that continue to make art are those who have learned to continue – or more precisely, have learned how to not quit.” (page 9)
“When you are lazy, your art is lazy; when you hold back, it holds back; when you hesitate, it stands there staring, hands in its pockets. But when you commit, it comes on like blazes.” (page 49)
Commit and don’t quit. It’s as easy as that...right? Sort of.
I’m proud of the fact that I’ve figured out how to make my daily running goal a priority. I made it non-negotiable and haven’t missed a day in nearly a year. However, my main goal is to be a writer, not a runner. That goal is still a work in progress, but what I’m learning from running, I’ll continue to apply to writing over time. I practice a weird mix of self-talk; a dash of disappointment (just do it already) and a dose of determination (you got this) as I aim to improve and keep going. And the more I do it, the easier it gets. As they say, competence breeds confidence!
Which leads me to a story about “getting easier,” that I experienced earlier this summer. The recurring memory of which encourages me to carry on in both my running and writing endeavors…
My typical daily run is down our street to a paved trail that connects the neighborhood to a beautiful 8-mile regional trail. It’s a half mile from my house to the point where these two trails connect. As I get close to that trail intersection, I’ll usually scope out a few walkers and runners, remembering to keep my head on a swivel for the bikers as I merge. Recently, as I approached, I saw a group of about 20 high school boys run past. It looked like a summer running club of some kind. When I got to the main trail, I turned in the direction they were headed, but by this time, they were a good 50 yards ahead of me and gaining ground. They were a fast group, except for one boy. He fell way back. What I noticed was that as his friends got farther and farther from him, he never stopped running. When I reached him, his friends were gone, completely out of sight. It appeared his pals were in much better shape than he was. And yet, despite his obvious pain and discomfort, he kept going. I was super impressed.
As I came up alongside the boy to pass, I slowed down and asked, “What club are y’all with?” With a quick answer, he responded with the name of a local high school, as I suspected. Then, as I picked it up to pass him, I said, “Keep it up, man…you got this!”
Less than a minute later, I heard someone approaching. I turned slightly and saw that it was the same boy now catching up to me. But when he reached me, he didn’t pass; he stayed right next to me. This surprised me. I mean, this had never happened to me before. When I catch people, I pass them. But when he caught up to me, he stayed? This was now the second time in just a few minutes that this boy had impressed me. It made me smile. Not wanting the moment to go to waste, I said, “How far do y’all go?”
With winded breath and a little frustration, he said, “I don’t really know. This is only like the second time I’ve done this.”
I didn’t ask what his reason for joining the group was, but it didn’t seem like he was having much fun. I also knew we wouldn’t have much time to chat. So I responded, “Well, I’m proud of you, man. I don’t really like this either, but I’m out here every day trying to do hard things. It’s good stuff…and it gets easier. Keep it up!”
After I preached my little soapbox sermon, I noticed he was keeping a good pace with me, faster than he was running when I first saw him. I then said, “I bet you your group is turning at the bridge ahead. I’ll run with you to that spot.” He didn’t respond; he just kept running, right alongside me, like we were old running club buddies.
Soon, we saw the lead runner of his group coming back our way. This confirmed my guess about where they would turn around, and it wouldn’t be long before we did the same. As we got closer, more and more guys made the turn and crossed us heading back the other way. At this point, I realized I had run well past the spot I typically turn around for my daily 5K. Without even thinking about it, I was running extra, as “encouragement” for this kid. Then I had a fleeting thought, one that would come back to me weeks later: what if this kid showed up as encouragement for me?
30 yards shy of the bridge turnaround spot, the last of his group was about to pass us. I had hoped they would see his perseverance and give him a shout-out. Or maybe they’d notice he never quit and give him a high-five. Neither happened. When the last two boys were about to pass, my guy turned on a dime and joined them. And just like that, he was gone. No ‘thanks’, no ‘later’, no nothing. He simply stopped short of the intended turnaround and rejoined his group at their back-of-the-pack pace. I laughed, kept going, made the turn…and never saw the group or the boy again.
I don’t know about you, but it’s fun for me to reflect on moments like this. This story has popped into my head numerous times, with three things in particular standing out. I picture the boy lagging behind the group, never stopping, even when no one was looking. I picture him catching up to me after I passed him, staying at my side like he knew me. And I picture him ditching me at the end, maybe when he realized he didn’t know me, after I had run more than normal to keep him company.
As I think about all that, I come back to that fleeting thought I had that day. Maybe I wasn’t there to help that boy after all. Maybe he was there to help me. It’s interesting how “help” is often more reciprocal than we realize. Life is like that trail. We run out and see people, and then we run back and see more people; sometimes the same people a second time after we’ve both turned around. Sometimes we smile and wave at them. And sometimes they smile and wave at us. These unexpected situations, and the opportunity to lend a helping hand, come and go both ways. Sometimes we aim to help others, and sometimes they aim to help us. And sometimes, our attempt to help others is what opens the door for them to help us, and leave an even greater impact.
I don’t know for sure if I helped that boy. I tried. It seemed like I motivated him somewhat as he chose to catch up and run with me. Maybe he needed a pal to reset the pace. I’ll never know for sure, but I do know he helped me. Maybe he was there to take my mind off my turnaround spot and guide me a little further to his. Maybe I needed a pal that day to push me. Our brief interaction motivated me to press on…even after he stopped short, and I finished alone. Thanks, one day running club buddy!
I’m not suggesting one should intentionally give to get, but when I reflect on experiences like this, I’m often amazed at what I get when I aim to give first.
I set out to run a 5K that day, and I ended up running more…at a strong, comfortable pace, feeling good about life. It wasn’t a massive gain, but it was the scene and the lesson that stood out that day. It made me thankful for opportunities to help others. And even more, it made me thankful for the countless times others have helped me.
Ultimately, this brief encounter encouraged me to carry on. The way I see it, that boy represented where I was when I first started running. It was much harder then than it is now. Running every day has made running easier. I wouldn’t say I love it, but I no longer say I hate it. That boy also represents where I am as a writer. I’ve got work to do to get to where I want to go, but I know what motivation, accountability, and discipline can do for any craft. Like I said, I aspire to be a writer who runs, not the other way around. As long as I commit to that goal and don’t quit, I have hope, because I’m confident I’m moving in the right direction. One mile, one post at a time…
God be praised! For writers who write things we are influenced by, and then quote. For runners who run places we are inspired by, and then follow. And for all you go-getters who commit to doing what you do, and don’t quit.
AP
p.s. In case you forget who determines which of your goals to pursue, here is a helpful graph to keep you grounded…created by another writer who runs. (Thanks, Semi-Rad)
