Grit or quit?

 

There is a 50% difference between the letters in grit and quit. It takes intentionality to choose which 50% you embrace.

And yes, the pic is ancient. 1997 JFK 50 Mile. But I chose grit, not quit, for the win (literally)

Here's the truth: Crossing the line first isn't always guaranteed even with massive amounts of grit. And when you do cross, more times than not it will not give you the top spot on the podium.

But quit? Quit will never get you there no matter what.

Choose carefully.

Frozen?

Frozen in time? World closing in?

What then?

Hang on.

Huddle up.

Might still be cold but it never always gets worse.

Retired?

I'm retired. Sort of. Not really.

It's been nearly 2 years since I showed up at 7:30 AM and left sometime wayyy later. It was good. I really liked the college kids I worked with and it seemed to be mutual. Still, I didn't shed any crocodile tears on my last day.

I had plans. Speak on more platforms. House projects. Home improvement. Landscaping. Continue to work with coaches and athletes. Earn an EMT certification. Serve the community. Hang out with my grandkid. Train hard for very long races. Publish another book.

And now I'm here. Lots of boxes checked. More to come.

But still, I enjoy not setting an alarm (unless I am the school taxi for my granddaughter). There is more time to read. Stay up late. Experiment with breadmaking. Swim at the Y. Hit the reset button after my surgery. Develop more connections without the pressure of "have to."

I like this life. Not too busy but busy enough.
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If you would like a spot on my retired-not retired calendar, let's talk. It is a true privilege when I "get to" work with coaches and athletes, inspire audiences to do big things, and help teams become their best.

Fishpond lessons

 Fishpond lessons.

The hole is closing, getting smaller by the minute.
Opportunities disappearing.
Hope evasive.

Or. . .
Is the hole actually opening up?
Getting larger by the minute.
Opportunities presenting themselves.

It all depends on your perspective.
The hole is what it is, kept open by the continuous fountain.
But it's a singular snapshot of reality.

Is the hole actually getting bigger or smaller?
If temps are warming, the hole is likely getting bigger.
But if the temps are dropping, the hole might be closing. (Too bad for the 🐟 that swim beneath the surface.

So what do we do with this reality?
What do we do when we feel like life is closing in?
What do we do when we feel opportunities slipping away?

Perhaps we should make like the fish. If history repeats itself, they know how to weather the frigid weather. They slow WAYYYY down. Barely moving. Preserving energy. Biding their time. The rest they get saves them for the future.

And then it eventually warms. Activity increases and productivity rises, fueled by the necessary period of rest and dormancy.

For a multitude of reasons, I feel like I am in a period of dormancy. In fact, the hole may get smaller before it gets bigger. But I'm OK with that.

The thaw will come - eventually - and I'll be OK.

Just 5.99.

 5.99. Not 6. Just 5.99.

A few months ago I would never have let this happen.

I would have walked around the house until my watch reported the nice round number of 6.0 because 5.99 would have made me nuts.

Honestly, it's typical among my running friends. 17.3 doesn't cut it. We run the parking lot until the watch says 17.5, an acceptable number. Or if the watch says 21.6, there is a compulsion to run down the road 0.2 miles and back again to force the watch to read 22.0.

Why? Are we better people when we do this? Is it because we are committed to meeting some arbitrary goal that may or may not be critical? Will we fail in the next race if we don't log the extra 0.4 miles? Probably not.

It's silly, although I can understand that cutting corners can be problematic.

Still, I'm trying hard to let go of that which is inconsequential. Those things that bind me. Imprisons me. Holds me captive to something that doesn't really matter.

It goes beyond making my watch read an acceptable number. I can get hung up on the way my husband puts his newly washed clothes in the drawer. Or obsess over a room that is not spic and span every minute of every day. Or get upset when the salad mix goes bad before the expected date.

I want to focus on what is truly important, not that which holds no significant value.

How about you? What is hard to let go of?

Make like a submarine

Run silent. Run deep. Run long. Run strong. . .one day at a time.

When “Pace Yourself: 366 Devotions from the Daily Grind” hit the press some years ago, I would autograph each book with those words. It conveyed my own approach to doing hard things. It was a private, secret place in my mind not crowded by outside voices. It was my hiding place: a place I had to go to heal, grow, and excel.

I now revisit those words myself as I continue my rehab from surgery. I have goals that few can fully appreciate. And the steps to those goals? Well, that’s what will require retreating to that silent, deep, private place, much like a submarine that glides undetected through the depths, making progress without a splash.

There is much to be said about the importance of a community that supports and encourages. But at a certain point, it is critical that we embrace the importance of the work done in private. The work that no one sees. The work that is critical to building an unshakeable foundation held together with the strongest tenants of character.

Are you in a period of deep? Running silent? I encourage you to explore those waters and see what happens.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1934749761

To change or not to change

 What's better? A come hell or high water non-negotiable plan or one that has some flexibility?

I swam 5000 yards today. That's 3 miles of following a black line on the bottom of the pool over a period of 1 hour and 48 min. 🏊‍♀️

I didn't plan on swimming that long. I figured that 3300 (2 miles) would be good enough. My swims are never less than 2400 yards (1.5 miles) and up to 5300. To swim 5000+ takes a certain mindset. I didn't think I had it in me today.

Though I started off sort of slow, things kicked in about halfway. When I got to 3300, I started thinking about something and time sped up a little. By the time I hit 4200 (2.5), I figured that if I was only 800 yards away from my goal of at least one weekly 3+ mile swim, I might as well keep going. I was glad I did. It's another box to check off.

But what if I felt terrible halfway through? Would it be equally OK to change plans and back off?

I can have a hard time being flexible - especially when it comes to training. I was raised with the mindset to set a goal and don't stop until it is achieved no matter what. Anyone with me?

If I downgrade my goal, it feels like I am simply finding an excuse to be lazy. And honestly, that is probably more the case than not.

But is flexibility the evil cousin of commitment? Is it possible to remain flexible to accommodate circumstances and not feel like a cheating fool?

As I've said before, there is an infinitesimally thin line between dedication and obsession. Cross it and you might find yourself falling into the bottomless abyss, never to be seen again.

I do think there is a time and a place to grant ourselves grace to change plans. It should probably not become a habit but more of an exception. Still, sometimes changing plans is the reasonable thing to do.

Anyone feeling me on this? Tell me about a change to a plan you had to make. It can be big or small. In the aftermath, was the change an excuse or legitimate reason?

Geez- life can be so hard to figure out. 🥺