If you’re like me, and trying to harness the power of single minded focus…you too may find Myrko Thum’s post “Why Single Minded Focus is the Only Real Way” interesting and insightful.
Enjoy reading. Now it’s time for me to focus. Again!
In this context terrified is a good thing.
I feel the same way about writing.
Fear fueled by adrenalin can render you useless, or bring out the absolute best you have to offer.
Without a doubt, it’s the fuel that’ll send you orbiting the euphoric high of achieving that one thing that makes you giddy with life.
Sometimes it isn’t, I just can’t bring myself to bring ain’t into the conversation, pretty, at times it’s down right ugly. All that matters is….you get there in the end.
This sentiment hit home as I relived this lesson last Sunday.
It was during a 15km, or 9.32 mile fun run. Yes. Oxymoron springs to mind.
I said sentiment right? I should have said cement. As on that beautiful Sunday morning I woke up feeling like someone had poured the heavy stuff into my sleeping self.
Gone was that springy fresh feeling…instead I felt weighted with fatigue, and the dread of the hard work coming my way.
From the first step of the run, I knew I was in for a “the spirit is willing, but the body doesn’t want to cooperate” kind of day at the running office.
So much so, I fervently wished the event peeps had organized a lazy-boy recliner for me at the first drink stop.
Not so. And on I plodded.
Nothing could bring me out of my running funk. Not even the glorious scenery, the amazing people who passed me along the way, my running app including my go-to-faithful music. Nothing could ignite my flagging energy levels, or distract me from my self-inflicted distress.
Of paying good money to participate in a fun run.
Why…wasn’t I sitting in a cafe drinking coffee and eating eggs on toast?
As far as I was concerned this run was definitely 15km, or 9.32 miles too long.
By the time I crossed the finish line, my pep was all but exhausted. I didn’t even have the energy to check my time against the race clock.
I’d zoned out, and couldn’t even be bothered listening to the lovely RunKeeper lady as she proudly announced my run stats through my i-phone headphones.
I was spent.
Turns out I’d run a reasonable time…1:17.20 secs…blitzing my fastest split times of 5:13 km’s.
So, even though it hurt, and I despised every single cement laden step. I made it.
And I guess, at the end of the day, that’s what counts.
Sunday’s run was a timely reminder…setting goals is one thing. Reaching them is another. And, fabulous, good, bad, or down right ugly…it doesn’t matter how you reach them. Reach them.
Give up? Never an option.