At this point in the year, there’s not much left to do but reflect, listen to holiday music on repeat and watch Love Actually. He’s recovering from an amazing run at CIM, I’m recovering from a feisty knee that has finally decided to stop throwing tantrums. It seems very appropriate that our year wrapped up like this, in support:
What should pretty obvious is that I didn’t run it, but the few weeks leading up to that decision were unpleasant, to say the least. One of the positives I could come up with was that if I lost the chance to race, it really only mattered to me. A total of three people knew I was registered – me, my Coach and my fiancé. Only three people had to watch the emotional roller-coaster that is realizing, as a runner, that you’re sidelined. Not only do you have to give up the chance to race, to finally feel satisfied (or so I hoped!) after a long year of training and missing those exact training goals*, but you also give up control over something you want to do daily – simply run.
The body controls you. The injury controls you. The circumstances control your decisions. You have to step aside and be patient.
But at the end of the day, for once, there was no one to tell besides my legs. Sorry gals, you’re out. No more racing this year for you. And as someone who has believed strongly in the power of sharing goals (with friends, family, blog posts, blends + IRLF, etc.), this was an indescribable relief. A much needed silent break.
There are two camps in the goal-coaching world – one that encourages goal-sharing, and one that says, “Lock it up. Keep it to yourself!” Every week during every month of the year, I work with people to set and achieve goals. We think about big goals, and break it down into smaller ones. Sure, they’re sharing this with me, but not always with someone else. While I’ve always thought I was most motivated by having outside accountability, I know that not everyone functions in the exact same way.
Point of the story: putting your goal out there makes you feel vulnerable.
Sometimes that’s just what you need to embrace the challenge; you allow, and maybe rely on, others to fuel you with courage and encouragement. You feed off of their excitement for you, and the excitement you feel when you say a Big Hairy Audacious Goal l(BHAG) aloud. When it inevitably gets hard, you think of how it will feel to verbalize that you’ve decided to quit. Instead, you keep going.
Sometimes, it takes just as much courage to keep it to yourself. To see where you can go on your own. To test if you’re being true to you, and if the needed intrinsic motivation is there.
Neither way is perfect, and now I know, neither way has to be set it stone for each of us. Now I think it may be a mix of both. Maybe some things you want to put there for accountability, maybe to try and recruit friends and family to join you on an adventure. Maybe some things just need to be yours, and you’ll realize you have all the tools you need to build your success.
Either way, have the courage to know what you want, and show up for yourself.