So, let's get this party started.
The Drive to Nowhere
True story from yesterday:
As I'm driving to pick up my mountain bike from the mechanic, and then head to the pool for my Thursday swim session, this thought creeps in:
"Why should I swim today anyway?
I have no clear goal.
My half Ironman goal isn't coherent.
I'm not swimming with purpose, not making a real effort, not 'really' working out.
Just trash volume.
Why do I need this shit?!
Let's just drive home and be miserable."
I'm not in bright spirits (an understatement).
The Zen Technique: Going with the Argument
Here's where I borrowed from Zen philosophy —
Instead of fighting against a thought or argument, you go with it, all the way to its furthest point.
You bring the person (or in this case, yourself) to the extreme to force reevaluation.
Like when someone says the Earth is flat, you don't argue with them.
You say, "Amazing! Let's go check it out. I want to see that beautiful water pouring into the void!
But we must walk in one direction until we reach the edge, otherwise we'll wander in circles!"
Eventually, you end up where you started. Then they go, "Hmm..."
So I used this Zen Jedi technique on myself: "Alright, let's follow this ride with full commitment —
The Dark Spiral
Following that logic, the swimming is merely the top of the shit pile —
"I'm probably a shitty parent because I can't give my kids what I intended.
I'm a shitty business owner because I never achieved the goals I expected.
I'm almost 50, and my life is far from where I anticipated.
In fact, I came short of my goals.
By age 50, my whole life is a failure, the "cut-off" time is approaching, and it's too late anyway!
So, like with that pool I'm driving to — what's the point?
But hey, our medicine cabinet at home has many beautiful, magical pills that could end this suffering."
That's the peculiar territory these thoughts took me to while I was driving on autopilot toward the pool — because that's what my body and psyche were used to doing every Thursday.
"Hmmmm...", I thought to myself, "that indeed sounds promising, but I'm not there yet. Close enough, maybe, yet I still have some unfinished business in this round."
Let's turn the tables and look at the other side of this coin, so I turned to —
The Inversion Technique
Thus, after this beautiful guilt trip process — realizing that if swimming is shit, then my whole life is shit, and we're all pretty much useless anyway since we're born just to die — I used inversion.
The question became: "What would I practically need to do to completely fuck up my life and justify that beautiful medicine cabinet?"
The fastest way to complete darkness was the obvious:
Stop training completely.
Stop signing up for events and strive.
Go sit miserably at home.
Stop answering people.
Close the studio.
Release all my students.
Start drinking.
Push my kids away.
Shut people out of your life.
And, wholeheartedly, buy the "I fell short of my goals and expectations = I'm I failure" doctrine.
So, both techniques gave me the same answer but from two different POV's... Hmmm....
The Breakthrough
This scale of light and dark got me thinking, and I found myself in the pool parking lot.
While trying to make sense of all of that, I've entered the cool pool water, and...
...had the best fucking swimming session I'd had in months!
How come?
Because it was absolutely, positively pointless.
I just let it all go.
"Screw it, I'm just gonna swim," - I said, and I did.
And it was a total immersion - moving through the water, with the water, within the water.
Beautiful.
Something I hadn't felt in a long time.
AND I knew what both my podcast and this letter were going to be all about.
The Distorted Culture of Goals
This whole experience made me realize something about our sick culture of goal-setting, success-chasing, and comparison — it's not doing people any good.
We're all prone to mood swings.
Sometimes they swing too far.
But not every mood swing, or a tough period, has to end in the medicine cabinet.
Anyway, we have only one medicine cabinet and way too many mood swings — it's not that we live in a Groundhog Day.
And this is the thing - as not every training session needs to be a battlefield toward some distant goal, not every day, month, year, or life must end on the Forbes cover, IPO, millions of subs, and worldwide recognition.
The comparison and the endless run in the "hamster wheel" of social media recognition and public opinion validation will kill, and kills us faster than any medicine cabinet or a 9mm led pill ever will!
It's ok to just be.
And BE happy about it!
My swimming session wasn't moving me toward my half Ironman (at least by the 'standard' definition), but there are more important things than an Ironman.
Sometimes training is just about being present, about the pure experience of movement.
Goals vs. Directions
Goals are important, but here's the shift: think of them as directions instead of destinations.
When you have a direction, you're driving, but you're also experiencing the journey
When you have a goal, you're pedal-to-the-floor, clutching the wheel, eyes crazy, just pushing and driving.
You see nothing, you feel nothing — you're just a delivery boy of life.
The Comparison Trap
We must stay alert not to get too connected to our goals, because the moment we start comparing, we've automatically lost.
There's no way to sustain or meet the ideal person in our minds.
Regardless of how far we reach or how much we achieve, our psyche will always draw a brighter, more successful, happier future.
We'll always end up feeling inferior until we cut this cycle of endless hamster wheel guilt trips.
The Driver's Seat
Yes, I have destinations.
Yes, I have goals.
Goals are fine.
But I am the driver (imagine Sylvester Stallone screaming: "I am the law!" in the 1995, 'Judge Dredd' movie).
I choose when to stop, when to turn, when to explore, who to pick up, and when to get back on the main highway and drive toward whatever horizon is waiting for me.
That Thursday, swimming became pointless in the best possible way.
And sometimes that's exactly what we need - not another step toward a goal, but a moment of pure presence in the moment.
Maybe that's the real destination after all.
Fun trip
Coach MichaelFriendly Reminder:
Questions, thoughts, random kettlebell epiphanies?
I’m all ears (well, eyes — it's a Blog).
Hit reply — I actually DO read all, promise.
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