Thoughts On Finish Lines

People say they want to grow; “I’m going to learn French/run a marathon/pay off my debts/hit the gym.” They don’t.

They might think they relish personal growth, but they just like the idea. Hard work is hard. Determination fades (if it ever existed in the first place).

Action is the crossing point. Once you’re in action, intentions seem quaint and childish, bluster is irrelevant, failure is always a possibility, and nobody but you can trod your best path. People melt. Being awesome is hard.

After a few feeble motions, folks get discouraged. They decide “awesome” is a pain in the ass, settle on “mediocre” as just ducky, and let the whole thing slide.

Then, after a few score orbits around the sun… they die. The game of life comes with a time limit.

I’m a contrarian. If I’m gonna’ die, I’m going to make it a stone cold bitch to distill my life down to a 300 word obituary. I set out to do things and truly endeavor. My goals may seem stupid, but they’re right for me. I may summit or faceplant, but I rarely chicken out. Who can say more?

Recently, I completed a challenge. In the interest of privacy, OPSEC, and intended (if incomplete) humility, I’m not going to elaborate. The details would bore you anyway. Please forgive me as I talk in generalities.

This challenge was physical, endurance rather than a sprint. I’m not the 19 year old meathead I once was. Time and mileage is wearing on the chassis, but (being either dumb or determined) I didn’t hold back. Thankfully, I succeeded (whew!).

Having crossed my self defined finish line, I immediately switched to recovery mode. Recovery mode meant (and still means) limited posting. I tried to keep up but the blog takes a back burner sometimes. Y’all understand.

I discussed recovery mode back in 2018. Time to revisit the concept. Have I learned from my mistakes?

The bad way: collapsing in a heap at the finish line. In early 2018 I didn’t plan for the aftermath. Life’s stresses were waiting on the far end of a well earned finish line. Life  pummeled me (Part 1, part 2, part 3). Lesson learned:

If you stretch yourself… I mean really go for it… dispense with the excuses and the bullshit and timid resignation of society… and grit your teeth and push through… you’ll eventually cross a finish line. It’s awesome. And it’s dangerous.

Attaining a hard-won goal is the very moment when you’re weakest. That’s a bit of wisdom I’ll pass on free of charge because I was just reminded of it. One inch across the metaphysical finish line, I was crushed. Take a gentle reminder from my mistake.

If you’re going to push it, prepare an end game.

The better way: stroll across the finish line like a boss. In mid 2018, mindful of my mistakes earlier that year, I did a lot better:

I accomplished what I set out to do. It took well over a year to get to this particular goal. But I handled it properly. I was fully prepared so that I could walk up to my personal goal, take a good look at the metaphysical finish line, and stride across that motherfucker like I own the world. Chalk up a happy moment for the Curmudgeon!

This year’s theme: ghost across like there ‘aint no line at all. That’s what I did to ring in 2020! I happened to be at home (which isn’t always the case) and I was aware of how worn out I’d be. So I shuffled my aching body to the nearest comfy chair… and stayed put. I barely moved for 48 hours. It took 2 days until I was “with it” enough to indulge in a cold beer and focus on a 2 hour movie… and for that particular moment, it was the right thing to do. It’s all I did.

There is much to do around the house. Mundane and necessary chores; I did none of it. It snowed. I didn’t plow it. (Luckily, the accumulation wasn’t deep.) The woodstove ran out of wood. I didn’t replenish it. (All hail fuel oil.) I didn’t do business, run errands, or even check my own blog. Until I was ready, it was “hold all calls” and “Mr. Curmudgeon has left the building”.

Now I’m slowly coming out of it. Bit by bit and day by day. Nice and easy. I don’t wish to repeat the traumatic mistake of two years ago. I think it’s working. Apparently, one is never too old to finally act like they’re wise.