Affichage des articles dont le libellé est success. Afficher tous les articles
Affichage des articles dont le libellé est success. Afficher tous les articles

The Rocky Road of Romance

Book the Second: Chapter 16


Sometimes with One I Love

Sometimes with one I love I fill myself with rage for fear I
effuse unreturn’d love,
But now I think there is no unrerturn’d love, the pay is certain
one way or another,
(I loved a certain person ardently and my love was not return’d,
Yet out of that I have written these songs.) [1]

– Walt Whitman
(1819-1892)


Growing up, my father taught me that nothing in life worth having comes fast or easy. He was right! The following story recounts my journey in search of one of my life’s most important goals: romantic success that leads to marriage. This story is actually more about failure than it is about romance or success. It is about my failures with romance, with one vital success at the end.

“I’ve missed more than 9,000 shots in my career. I’ve lost more than 300 games. Twenty-six times I’ve been trusted to take the game-winning shot – and missed. I’ve failed over and over and over again in my life. And that is why I succeed.”

– Michael Jordan
(1963-Present)


All failure is temporary—unless you quit. If you keep trying and never give up, temporary failures become the building blocks of lasting successes. This is good news, because temporary failure is an inevitable part of life; no one is exempt from its painful clutches. In the words of Alan Boss & Henry Sims, Jr.:

To live is to experience failure. There appears to be no way around it. Sooner or later, everyone fails. Some failures are small and private … other failures are larger and more public…. All of us experience failure many times in our lives. Some fail miserably and get over it quickly, while others let it completely take over their lives. However, failure is not a permanent state, and there are actions that can facilitate recovery. In particular, individuals who are adept at emotion regulation and self-leadership create their own opportunity to emerge from failure and return to a state of recovery. [2]

In more ways than one, I am no Casanova. This chapter details the ways in which repeated failure in romance often exacerbated my obsessive-compulsive pathology, leading to some of the most profound psychological and emotional adversity and pain of my life. On the plus side, this pain promoted some of the most focused, ambitious, and committed SAL I’ve ever undertaken. In fact I believe I owe a sizable portion of my overall success in life to the lessons I learned and the growth I experienced vis-à-vis romantic failure and disappointment.

Correspondingly, I explain how these failures and disappointments, in concert with my efforts to transcend them, produced the all-important seed of success that grew into courting and marrying my wife, which I view as the single greatest achievement of my life.

FALLING HARD


I am a romantic. My mother and father were both romantics, so I suppose I got a double dose of the romance gene. I was also mimetically influenced to value romance. For example, as a thirteen-year-old boy, I recall watching my father excitedly preparing a romantic atmosphere in a posh hotel suite for his and my mother’s 25th wedding anniversary. His actions left an indelible impression on my young mind.

Since kindergarten, I can hardly remember a time when I was not romantically interested in – if not obsessed with – some girl or woman. Romance has always been an interest, and to varying degrees, a focus of mine. My first crush came at age four or five. The subject of my attraction was a girl I planned to someday marry.

From a tender age, my daydreams were many and varied regarding romance. My OCD also made it almost impossible for me to like any girl or woman without viewing her obsessively as my future wife. Later, as a young man, I even composed dozens of letters – some of them handwritten – to my “future wife.” Throughout junior high, high school, college, and beyond, I cannot remember a school year without having at least one captivating crush. I was always falling in love, and the falling usually occurred rapidly – sometimes at first sight. Thus it is that I once penned:

She Was [3]

She was . . .

An angelic figure of embryonic divinity,
A guileless goddess of perfect pristinity,
My unmatched match throughout all infinity . . .

This girl that I met just today.

I was so desperately prone to falling in love that one time I became infatuated with a girl I had never even seen or met! I found her attractive simply by what other’s had said about her in conjunction with a lone phone conversation where I found her voice to be enchanting. Being thus aurally enamored, I penned:

The Beauty of Her Voice [4]

Although I’ve never seen her face,
Her voice is sweet as honey,
It speaks refinement and pure grace,
That can’t be bought with money.

’Tis ’mazing how her tone enchants
My soul and heart and mind,
The lovely sound for me implants
Hope that my eyes might find…

Her face and form and outer light
And with that meet and mingle;
And listen to her voice so bright,
My ear for her is single!

Yes hope and words and inner spirit,
All proclaim her golden worth,
And when her sweet voice I hear it,
My ardent heart is filled with mirth!

MY DATING RECORD


Unfortunately, my passion for romance eventually conspired with my OCD to make it virtually impossible to win the heart of any of my crushes. This is not to say I didn’t try. I went on my first date at age 16. According to my personal dating journal, between my 16th birthday and the day I got married – a span of 13 years – I went on 746 dates with 134 different women, 526 of which (71%) were with Lina—my wife-to-be. During this same span, I was rejected 130 times by 80 different women. [5] The numbers don't equal each other because some women rejected me more than once. Two women in particular rejected me nearly 20 times between the two of them, and I never convinced either one to be my girlfriend. I was not always very good at taking -- or accepting -- a hint.

DATING WOES & PATHOLOGICAL HEARTBREAK


OCD-related social awkwardness was typically what poisoned the waters of any lasting success with romance. Whether it was coming on too strong, not listening, a neurotic, high-strung intensity, taking things too seriously, blowing things out of proportion, dealing poorly with rejection, pride, arrogance, impatience, being overeager, the inability (or refusal) to take a hint, or simply trying too hard, I failed again and again in my efforts to get a girlfriend.

I was a 24-year old college graduate before getting my first kiss. Before that, I was like the Mormon version of the “40-Year-old Virgin!” My first “official” girlfriend dumped me after only one week of going out. Before reaching these encouraging, albeit fleeting, “benchmarks” in my progress, I had suffered through several extended periods of pathological heartbreak over several different women with whom I had never even been in a relationship! Two such occasions were sufficiently severe and agonizing to drive me back into therapy and back on medication.

These extended episodes of “despised love” triggered some of the most severe and clinical OCD episodes of my life. For months at a time, I would become obsessively consumed with the excruciating ruminations of heartbreak over women who were never even my girlfriend. It was terribly unhealthy, and excruciatingly painful. Nevertheless, I continued on with my studies and life as best I could while suffering unrelentingly inside. While I went about my business with a semblance of stasis and normalcy on the outside, the storms taking place in my mind and heart and soul were inexplicably agonizing.

Ironically, I would often act as confident on the outside as I was insecure on the inside. Sometimes, this external bravado would pave the way for temporary success, only to evolve into embarrassing failure down the road. I was also extremely egotistical in the way I viewed myself. I often harbored a narcissistic fantasy that I was somehow God’s gift to women and that all of them should adore me, if not at first sight, then certainly after a little conversation. In my crazed mind, if a woman didn’t like me, it was basically because she was clueless, or because I was doing something wrong.

While I often was doing something wrong, my neurotic, egotistical, overinflated view of myself was a classic symptom of cognitively distorting reality into “all-or-nothing” dichotomies. [6] One minute I’d feel on top of the world, assuming that any woman who didn’t want me must be crazy! The next minute, I’d feel like the most awkward, dorkiest loser in the world that no respectable woman should like. Neither extreme was an accurate perception of reality.

My arrogance was such that that I’d allow my pride to be unnecessarily bruised over a "rejection" even when I knew the girl wasn’t right for me, and had little intention of pursuing a relationship with her even if she were open to dating me. I behaved as if my only pathway to success lay in convincing every woman on the planet to instantly fall in love with me. Aside from being neurotic, it was absurdly conceited. With the progress I have made, I can only look back and shake my head in embarrassment at how immature my thought processes were.

As I struggled along, I often committed pathetic social blunders that are painful to reflect upon even today. I was a bridge burner who foolishly focused on objectives rather than processes. My older brother Joe once brought this point to my attention by asking me a sarcastically serious question. He queried: “Jordan, why don’t you focus on developing friendships instead of leaving a wake of destruction in your path?”

It was a good question, and the answer was that I lacked the internal security, maturity, and patience to do so. It is hard to stomach that I behaved and thought this way, but it was the truth, and I had to face up to reality if I ever hoped to improve my chances with women. It was not the job of the women, my external circumstances, or my luck to change; it was my job to change myself to become a desirable partner. I needed to exercise SAL to develop the social growth I so terribly lacked.

DREAMS OF REJECTION


Leading up to meeting and then marrying my wife Lina, I often struggled with painful dreams of romantic rejection. After I began dating Lina, the dreams shifted to Lina rejecting me. To this day, after seven years of marriage, I still have dreams that Lina and I are dating and she breaks up with me. In those dreams, she never calls me back, and sometimes months or even years pass before I wake up. I virtually always wake up before a resolution is reached, and I am grateful to regain consciousness and realize Lina is there, and still loves me.

MY QUEST FOR MRS. RIGHT


Looking back, there are three key improvements I made that paved the way for success in my relationship with Lina. First, I was more patient, casual, and relaxed; in short, I learned to act normally around girls. [7] Second, I learned how to respond to rejection more maturely. Third, I progressed in my career in an attractive manner.

ADVICE FROM GRANDMA JENSEN


As my family members observed my issues with romance, they began to worry about me. I remember my oldest brother suggesting maybe there was a reason I was not finding more success. His painfully obvious implication was that I was doing something wrong. And he was right; I often was doing something wrong.

Once during a visit with my grandmother Jensen (with whom I was close), the conversation turned to romance and dating. As we chatted, she cleverly cloaked her concern for me in a compliment. She said, “Jordan, you’ve just got to not let the girls know how smart you are.” She then added a somewhat flippant comment about how girls are often silly and just want to have fun. Far from casting aspersions on all young women, what Grandma was really doing was sensitively exposing a glaring personal weakness I had with regards to dating; and she accomplished her design by adroitly presented her feedback in a package full of praise.

When she said that most girls are silly and just want to have fun, what she was really trying to tell me is that I needed to relax, be more easy-going, and act more “normal” in my social interactions with women. The lesson was not lost on me, although it would be a while before it would sink in sufficiently to start bringing me success. This advice from Grandma changed my life, and started preparing me to meet and successfully court Lina.

LINA


I met Lina when she was a sophomore in college. She was studying mechanical engineering at the Georgia Institute of Technology (Georgia Tech) in Atlanta. I found her interesting, intelligent, fun, and attractive from the start, and—true to form—fell in love within the week. If it had been up to me, we would have been dating within the month, engaged within six, and married within a year.

In actuality, six weeks passed before our first date. Another three-and-a-half months went by before she officially became my girlfriend. During this three-month period I suffered terrible symptoms of anxiety, insecurity, and fear of failure. Intense and pervasive, these symptoms took a toll on my body as well as my mind and heart. That fall, I was 6’2” and weighed 165 pounds, not exactly a portly figure of masculinity. Moreover, anyone who knows me well is aware of how healthy my appetite is under normal circumstances. However, by the end of that year (2006), I was down to 152 pounds. I was terrified of what might not happen, and haunted by all of the romantic failure and rejection of the past.

One day, I shared my thoughts, feelings, and concerns with a church leader in a private meeting. Sensing the depth of my mental and emotional turmoil in the matter, he thoughtfully directed me to Joaquin Miller’s inspiring poem, Columbus.

Behind him lay the gray Azores,
Behind the Gates of Hercules;
Before him not the ghost of shores;
Before him only shoreless seas.
The good mate said: “Now must we pray,
For lo! The very stars are gone,
Brave Adm’r’l, speak; what shall I say?”
“Why, say: ‘Sail on! sail on! and on!’”

“My men grow mutinous day by day;
My men grow ghastly, wan and weak.”
The stout mate thought of home; a spray
Of salt wave washed his swarthy cheek.
“What shall I say, brave Adm’r’l, say,
If we sight naught but seas at dawn?”
“Why, you shall say at break of day:
‘Sail on! sail on! sail on! and on!’ ”

They sailed and sailed, as winds might blow,
Until at last the blanched mate said:
“Why, now not even God would know
Should I and all my men fall dead.
These very winds forget their way,
For God from these dread seas is gone.
Now speak, brave Adm’r’l, speak and say——“
He said: ‘Sail on! sail on! and on!’ ”

They sailed. They sailed. Then spake the mate:
“This mad sea shows his teeth tonight.
He curls his lip, he lies in wait,
He lifts his teeth, as if to bite!
Brave Adm’r’l, say but one good word:
What shall we do when hope is gone?”
The words leapt like a leaping sword:
“Sail on! sail on! sail on! and on!”

Then pale and worn, he paced his deck,
And peered through darkness. Ah, that night
Of all dark nights! And then a speck—
A light! A light! At last a light!
It grew, a starlit flag unfurled!
It grew to be Time’s burst of dawn.
He gained a world; he gave that world
Its grandest lesson: “On! sail on!” [8]

Not knowing beforehand of my passion for poetry, my church leader had been inspired in his method of assuaging my pain. In the meantime, my mind, heart, and spirit were, like Columbus and his men, being stretched to their limits. Internally, it was exhausting. It also impacted my physical vigor and energy. During this period of time, I did little exercise and found running – one of my life’s cherished hobbies and passions – to be a ponderous chore.

Soon after my first date with Lina in late October of 2006, I decided to make my feelings known. I gave her a poem and a note clarifying my intentions for her to read over Thanksgiving break. A few days later, she wrote me back and said, “I'm not sure what your intentions are, but I just wanted to make sure we are on the same page. I'm glad that we're friends, and I'm not really looking for anything more.”

These words sliced into my heart with a poignancy that had grown exasperatingly familiar over the years. Old habits tempted me to respond immaturely and burn yet another bridge. After all, I was not interested in wasting time if she had no intention in pursuing a relationship.

Aside from my injured pride, which was already black and blue from previous beatings, I was also sincerely disappointed because I had found I was increasingly caring for this woman. Nevertheless, she had communicated clearly where she was at, so it was up to me to decide whether I was going to burn another bridge, or finally choose to take the high road. Fortunately, and somewhat uncharacteristically, this time I made a mature choice.

My congenial email response was, “Thank you for communicating your desire to just be friends. I am glad to know that we are both on the same page about that.” While I was not being 100% honest, I was being 100% appropriate (an ironic indicator of progress with my OCD on both counts). I surprised myself by how well I responded to my disappointment, and by actually backing up my words with uncharacteristic inaction. I did not push the matter any further. In fact, I stopped sending her e-mails just to demonstrate by deed that my words had been sincere.

Six days later, to my surprise, Lina e-mailed me back. In her opening sentence she wrote, “It seems like I haven't talked to you in a while. How's it going?” While I was making some ground in my development of patience, I still knew I wanted to date Lina. I did not want to act like a close friend when I was really looking for something more. Doing so would have been disingenuous, insincere, and inauthentic. So, in my e-mail back, I aimed for a casual, friendly tone throughout, but added an invitation to go to a Christmas concert at the end of my missive. To my great shock, she accepted.

From that point on, I refused to give up. But this time, the gal was running towards me rather than away from me. I was in unchartered territory!

It took four months from our first date, but by February 2007, Lina and I shared our first kiss and began to date exclusively. I was on cloud nine. The contrast helped me to better understand the tortured musings of Emily Dickinson:

SUCCESS is counted sweetest
By those who ne’er succeed.
To comprehend a nectar
Requires sorest need.

Not one of all the purples host
Who took the flag to-day
Can tell the definition,
So clear, of victory,

As he, defeated, dying,
On whose forbidden ear
The distant strains of triumph
Break, agonized and clear. [9]

Before we began dating, I told Lina about my OCD. Fearing that such news might end my chances with her, I was somewhat surprised when she didn’t budge over the news. Phew! And when I say phew, I’m talking PHEW!

Since my teen years I had held on in faith that someday I would find a great woman, be able to date her exclusively, and then marry her. “Your day will come,” I would remind myself over and over again.

A key to success in getting a relationship to work with Lina was learning to be patient with the timing of things. I had a real patience problem in other potential dating opportunities. One of my closest friends once remarked to me: “You know, Jordan, it seems like when you like a girl, you are ready to schedule three or four dates right off the bat.” This friend, kind and discerning like my Grandma, had a way of wisely offering constructive feedback implicitly, while giving the impression he was actually complimenting me. I initially viewed his comment as praise for my decisiveness, clarity of objective, and personal drive. Upon further reflection, however, I realized that what he was really trying to communicate was, “You know, Jordan, you might find more success if you didn’t approach dating like you would approach a hill you were trying to conquer in a race.”

I was still a long ways from convincing Lina to take a chance on me, and I still had a lot of progress to make in my career before I could seriously consider marriage. In the meantime, Lina seemed to really enjoy kissing me, and the feeling was mutual. Then, after six months of blissful dating, things took an unexpected turn for the worse.





A PANIC-RIDDEN BREAK-UP


Two weeks before Halloween, Lina broke up with me after eight wonderful months together. Although our relationship had generally been going very well, she remained unsure of her readiness to commit to marriage. With a little forewarning that the break-up was pending, I panicked. Not knowing what else to do, I decided to officially propose marriage. It was a terrible idea, and a pathetic proposal—I did not even have a ring. Rather than magically change Lina’s mind, which I somehow thought was possible, Lina just cried to have such pressure put on her when she needed to take a step back. I felt terrible to have made her feel even worse. Though the break-up was already inevitable, my foolish move officially sealed the deal. I drove home in the dark with my spirit subdued, my hopes dashed, and my heart broken.

A HARBINGER OF HOPE


As I was suffering through this heartbreak, a memorable incident took place one day at work. I was a groundskeeper at the time. It was late autumn, and all the flowers at our worksite had been removed for the season. One day, I was working near one of the property’s more prominent flowerbeds when I overheard a visitor talking with one of my coworkers who was cultivating soil in the flowerbed opposite mine. Disappointed to see the bed bereft of its typical multi-colored flora, she exclaimed disappointedly: “Oh, all the beautiful flowers are gone!” Then, simply, and with a tone of comforting eloquence, my colleague replied simply: “Don’t worry, it will be beautiful again.”

Though obsessed with and dismally distressed by my recent breakup, I was sufficiently cognizant to overhear this simple, brief exchange. The symbolism of my colleagues’ words was not lost on me, and I wondered, and even dared to hope, that it was foreshadowing of things to come, if not with Lina, then certainly with someone else. Only the passage of time could answer such musings. In the meantime, I continued to suffer at having lost “My Girl.”

BEAUTIFUL AGAIN


Soon after, fall flowers were planted, and true to my colleagues’ words, the flowerbeds were beautiful again.
As for the flowerbed of my life, it turned out that Lina had been suffering over the break-up as much as I had been, and after one frightful fortnight apart, she accepted my offer to get back together. I had not dared to hope for such a quick reunion, but as had been the case throughout my relationship with Lina, this time, things were different. I was overjoyed. She was happy about it too. Things were beautiful again with us, and it had all happened more quickly than I had anticipated.

Engagement Photo
Painfully, we broke up once more the following January (2008). This time our separation lasted only one week. We could not seem to stay apart, and I am eternally glad of it! Well aware of my long-held desires and long-term intentions in the relationship, Lina finally felt ready to reciprocate in February 2008. I officially proposed on March 22, 2008 at a romantic dinner at the base of the King & Queen Towers in the Sandy Springs area of Atlanta. We had a six-month engagement, four of which we were apart with work (me) and study abroad (Lina), before tying the knot on August 8, 2008.

FINDING VALUE IN REJECTION


In hindsight, I owe much of my Existential Growth to the countless opportunities I had to learn, grow, stretch, and suffer through the many romantic rejections I encountered and/or caused. Being rejected was never fun, but it provided me with many chances for close examination of my many foibles and flaws. This empowered me to better identify where I was a part of the problem, and provided many occasions to exercise SAL to improve myself and grow both socially and existentially.

It took a while for me to become worthy of a woman as remarkable as Lina, but over time, I was able to sufficiently transcend my former self to win the heart of an incredible person I deeply love, admire, and respect. Earning success with Lina made all the frustration, disappointment, hurt, and wait of the previous decade or so incredibly worth it.

With my Queen on 8-8-08




My precious family in November 2014.

Tomorrow, I will begin publishing the chapter that details my other experiences with OCD.


[1] Whitman, W. (1897). Leaves of Grass. Page 112. (Google Books version).
[2] Boss, A. D., & Sims, H. P. J. (2008). Everyone Fails!: Using Emotion Regulation and Self-Leadership for Recovery. Journal of Managerial Psychology, Volume 23, Issue 2, p. 135-150. DOI:10.1108/02683940810850781. Pages 135 & 146.
[3] Reprinted from Jensen, J. R. (2012). Psalms of Life: A Poetry Collection. Bloomington, IN: authorHouse. Page 96.
[4] Previously unpublished.
[5] “Rejected” refers to a woman’s refusal to go on a first date, or, as was more commonly the case, a refusal (explicit or implicit) to go on a second, third, fourth, etc.
[6] Burns, D. (2009). Feeling Good: The New Mood Therapy (Revised and Updated Edition). New York, NY: Harper Health. Pages 42-43.
[7] I was definitely more casual and relaxed in comparison to attempted romantic relationships with previous women. Despite this, one of Lina’s biggest issues with me early on in our relationship was how “formal” (i.e. serious, traditional, rigid) I was. Over time, as she accedes, there have been huge improvements in this area.
[8] Miller, J. (1909). Joaquin Miller's poems [in six volumes] Volume One: An Introduction, Etc. (Google Books version) Pages 151-152.
[9] Todd, M.L., & Higginson, T.W., Eds. (1892). Poems by Emily Dickinson. Roberts Brothers: Boston, MA, p. 13. (Google Books version).

SAL Book: The Freedom to Change Part 4

A FORMULA FOR AUTHENTIC CHANGE


How is authentic change accomplished? 

Through five simple—but not easy—steps. 

  1. A desire to change that is stronger than the desire not to change.
  2. An understanding of the principles upon which change is predicated.
  3. The willingness to do whatever is required to realize change.
  4. The humility to seek out the help of others whenever and wherever needed throughout the process.
  5. The maturity to acknowledge, and the willingness to accept, the gifts of Serendipity along the way.

SERENDIPITY: The felicitous aid of unseen forces.

There is not much I can do to help you with step one. Either you desire to change, or you don’t. If you do, then this book will be very helpful. If you don’t, there is nothing I, nor anyone else, can do for you until you do desire it.
There is a lot I can do to help you with step two, because outlining the principles of personal change is the purpose of this book.

Step three is entirely up to you. The strength of your will to work, and to be both persistent and patient throughout the process, will determine the extent of your long-term success.

Step four requires you to be humble enough to seek out the help of others as needed. Even my best personal efforts were insufficient to overcome OCD, depression, and other deep challenges I have faced in my life. The help of family, friends, and professionals were essential ingredients in my success.


Step five requires opening yourself up to, and then willingly accepting, the gifts of Serendipity. The most important SAL lesson I’ve ever had to learn is that I can’t solve all my problems by myself, even if I have access to the best available help from others. This is most humbling because I take great pride in my personal capacity for discipline, diligence, determination, persistence, proactivity, and achievement. Yet it seems that Serendipity saves me time and again after I, and others, have insufficiently done our very best to solve a perplexing personal problem. This is particularly true when dealing with issues like effectively managing mental illness, overcoming addiction, choosing life orientations that differ from your predetermined genetic or mimetic inclinations, and forgiving those who have abused or otherwise wronged you.

I can’t scientifically articulate exactly what Serendipity is, or how it works, although I do have deep spiritual and religious convictions concerning its ontology. I simply know It works—and that It’s powerful. If you desire to reach the highest levels of Existential Growth, you are going to need more than your own best efforts and the ablest assistance of others. The more open you are to Serendipity and Its seemingly coincidental, yet undeniably miraculous, power, the more it will open Itself up to you.

Acknowledging and accepting Serendipity does not require that you become a believer in a deity. It simply asks you to acknowledge and accept the reality that some things cannot be solved by human intervention alone. Science cannot identify what Serendipity is, but its existence – according to countless volumes of anecdotal affirmation – is clearly a real force in the world.

The three-fold purpose of this book, therefore, is to:

  1. Proclaim the good news that personal change is possible.
  2. Provide you with a toolbox of knowledge and skills to learn about and  then do what is required to realize change.
  3. Share a message to help soften and inspire hearts to desire change, seek help, and accept the essential gifts of Serendipity along the way.
The possibility of, and freedom to, initiate personal change will create opportunities for some of your life’s greatest adventures and challenges. Self-Action Leadership provides a vehicle whereby you may proactively pursue and successfully tackle these adventures and challenges to become very happy, successful, and fulfilled in your life.


Next Post: Friday, November 13, 2014; Chapter 3: The Freedom to Change (Part V): The Existence of Right & Wrong.

The Blog Post I Hoped I Wouldn't Have to Write

Last Saturday, in St. George, Utah, I ran my 13thmarathon in yet another attempt to achieve my frustratingly elusive goal to qualify for the Boston Marathon. 

I failed—again. 

Now it is time to write the blog post I hoped I wouldn’t have to write.  Here goes…

Strange as it might sound, my lucky number is actually 13.  So many things leading up to the race had portended a positive result.  I felt it was my time.  After all the work and waiting and adjustment and gained experience, I felt I had earned it.  I had convinced myself that the 13th time would be the charm in my nearly 4-year long quest to qualify for the marathon. 

It WASN’T. 

I didn’t even come close.  A faster than usual course turned out to be deceivingly hilly, and my questionable training amidst a hectic work travel schedule and plenty of parental responsibilities turned out to be insufficient.  I crossed the finish line in 3 hours and 35 minutes, missing my goal by 25 minutes—almost one minute per mile too slow to qualify for Boston. 

I’m not going to sugarcoat the fact that I was disappointed, if not devastated, at this painful failure.  Saturday was one of the more miserable days I have experienced in recent memory.  Despite being mentally and emotionally racked by the disappointment and disillusionment of failing once again at a goal I have invested so much time and effort in, I was physically sore and sick – more so than I had been at the conclusion of any of my previous marathons or half marathons.  It took me nearly six hours after the race before I had regained my appetite to eat or drink anything.  To make matters worse, my family and I had to catch not one, but two plane rides back to Houston after the race was over.  We didn’t get home until nearly 11:00 p.m. 

So how am I—the Self-Action Leadership guy—going to put a positive, self-leadership spin on my disappointing performance and failure to achieve my goal after trying 13 times and making numerous adjustments to my training?

The post I wanted to write would have exultantly shared the news of an impressive victory.  I then would have seasoned it with a few clever clichés to corroborate everything I had written about leading up to the race … you know: think big, work hard, be smart, pay the price, and then collect your pot of gold at the end of Boston’s bright rainbow.  It would have essentially been a PARTY in words, and that would have been okay, because that is the expected response when you win.   

But what happens when you lose?  Tony Robbins once said, “When you succeed, you tend to party; but when you fail, you tend to ponder.” 

I was not able to have the party I had anticipated having on Saturday.  Instead, since mile 17 of the St. George Marathon—when I knew my body lacked what it needed to run a sub 3:10 marathon—I have been doing a lot of painful pondering. 

Blessedly, the more I ponder, the more grateful I am that I didn’t qualify?  Why?  Because pondering has produced more seedlings of long-term success as a runner and a human being than partying could have ever hoped to do.  As a result, I believe I am ultimately farther ahead in my existential journey than I would have been had I qualified.  Moreover, I believe this post will be more meaningful to YOU – the Reader – than if I had written the post I wanted to write.

The other day, I was reading Dr. Suess’s book, Oh, the Places You’ll Go to my little son, Tucker.  Listen to the words of Suess’s masterpiece: 

You won’t lag behind, because you’ll have the speed.
You’ll pass the whole gang and you’ll soon take the lead.     
Wherever you fly, you’ll be best of the best.
Wherever you go, you will top all the rest.

Except when you don’t.
Because, sometimes, you won’t.

I’m sorry to say so
but, sadly, it’s true
that Bang-ups
and hang-ups
can happen to you.

You can get all hung up
in a prickle-ly perch.
And your gang will fly on.
You’ll be left in a Lurch. 

For the first seven miles of Saturday’s marathon, I was running not at sub 3:10 marathon pace, but at sub 3:00 pace, and was maintaining it fairly conservatively.  Everything was going as I had envisioned it.  Then, at mile seven, a series of hills came that lasted the better part of the next FIVE miles. 

I live in southeast Texas.  To my knowledge, there is not a single substantive hill in all of metro Houston.  With very few exceptions, I did no hill training.  By mile 17, despite the welcomed downhill that finally came, I was in a lurch, and knew it.  While I gave it my best shot from miles 18-26, my last eight miles saw my gang (hundreds of other runners) fly by me in embarrassing fashion.  Deflated, but determined to finish, I kept going, finished, collected my medal, and then collapsed in a heap of hurt (physically & mentally) in some unoccupied corner of Worthen Park in downtown St. George.

Thus began my treasure hunt for whatever life lessons I could glean from the experience.  I share the finds of my hunt below. 

Life Lesson #1: By shooting for the stars, you’re liable to end up reaching the moon. 

Qualifying for the Boston Marathon was my way of shooting for the stars as a runner.  I didn’t make it, but I DID complete 13 marathons, which is no small feat.  Of those 13 marathons, Saturday’s was the second fastest of the five marathons I ran in 2014.  It was also my fifth fastest time overall since I began running marathons in 2011.  So while I didn’t achieve my ultimate goal, I achieved a lot of other objectives in the process. 
My Marathon & Half-Marathon Medals (4 marathons run in practice)

Life Lesson #2: The importance of clarifying your life’s priorities. 

As I remarked in a previous blog post, I could easily qualify for the Boston Marathon if I dedicated my life to it.  Other people and things, however, are more important to me than qualifying for the Boston Marathon.  I have chosen to retire from the distance not because I am a quitter, but because my wife, son, and career are more important to me than qualifying for the Boston Marathon.  When the time comes that I have enough time to fully train for this event, I will likely choose to try again.  Knowing the extent of my aversion to failure, I don’t see how I cannot try again at some future date.  In the meantime, I choose to put marathoning in the back seat of my life.    

Life Lesson #3: The importance of recognizing and acknowledging your natural talent, and lack thereof, in different life undertakings.    

I have never been particularly talented at running long distances fast.  I was a cross-country State Champion in high school, but that was only for 3 miles.  I can run fast for 3 miles.  In college, I was an All-American in track and field, but that was in a relay where I ran only half a mile.  I can run really fast for 800 meters.  My true talent as a runner has always been in middle distances more than in long distances or sprinting.  No matter how hard I try, I simply do not have the natural talent to be as good at sprints or long distances as I do middle distances.  For example, one of my All-American teammates in college—who I ran within a second of in the 800—ran 70 minutes faster than I did on Saturday in the marathon.  One of the race’s elite runners, Mike finished in 7th place.  I love to run, and look forward to returning to shorter races in which I have more natural talent.  In fact, I’ve already signed up for a half marathon set for the middle of November.  I can’t wait to run a shorter race where I know I’ll do better and enjoy the process more.  And I look forward to continuing the habit of running regularly for the sake of physical health and appearance as well as mental, emotional, and spiritual hygiene. 

Life Lesson #4: You aren’t going to accomplish everything you set out to accomplish.

As human beings, we possess finite strength, capacity, energy, and talent.  We simply aren’t going to accomplish everything we set out to do, and that is okay.  The important thing is that we stay focused on what really matters most, and then ensure we are successful with those relationships and things.  Fortunately, qualifying for the Boston Marathon is not one of those things for me.  Thus, life goes on, I’ve learned what I can, and I can now turn my attention more fully to other objectives, while still remaining a runner and racer of shorter distances.   

Life Lesson #5: Experiencing pain, disappointment, discouragement, & rejection provides vital contrasts to positive emotions, thereby allowing us to more fully comprehend pleasure, success, fulfillment, and acceptance.   

Anyone familiar with my life’s story knows that I am no stranger to pain, disappointment, discouragement, and rejection.  I feel blessed to have experienced so much trial, illness, and struggle in my life from the simple standpoint that it makes the good times even better.  You cannot experience joy if you have never known sadness.  You cannot know victory if you have never experienced defeat.  You cannot truly appreciate success if you have not felt failure and chosen to learn there from.  In the insightful words of one of my athletic heroes, Michael Jordan:
“I’ve missed more than 9,000 shots in my career.  I’ve lost almost 300 games.  26 times I’ve been trusted to take the game winning shot and missed.  I’ve failed over and over and over again in my life.  And that is why I succeed.”

On a lighter note, I also learned that when you fail to qualify for the Boston Marathon, you don’t have to run the Boston Marathon!  I’m kind of sick of running marathons, so in one sense, it is actually kind of nice to know that I definitely won’t be running another marathon in April 2016.  Good riddance 26.2… for now at least. 

What Happens When I Fail?

When personal leadership pundits, like myself, write on the subject of goal setting, we typically focus on the importance of setting goals, as well as the satisfaction and benefits that result from accomplishing them. But there are other lessons to be learned from the process. These “other” lessons are sometimes counterintuitive to the virtues of traditional goal setting. Today’s post is about some of these less-heralded lessons.

Back in January, I ran my best marathon time. It was extremely satisfying and fulfilling. I was hoping to build on that success and do even better in my next marathon in March. When race day came, it was unpleasantly wet and humid, and my head, heart, and body struggled to get "into" the race. The moisture and humidity slowed virtually everyone's time down, and I was no different. To my chagrin, I not only missed my Boston Qualifying time again (My 11th failure to do so), I ran 37 minutes slower than in January.

The following day, I nursed my disappointment by committing again to do whatever was necessary to reach my goal, which had become so important to me. In the midst of this determined resolve borne, quite frankly, of self-disgust, I received an email from a personal mentor, who is also one of my goal accountability partners. This mentor -- Dr. Christopher P. Neck -- just happens to have completed 12 marathons himself, including the elite Boston and New York Marathons.

I can honestly say his email changed my life as it relates to my marathoning goals.

His response to the news of what I believed was a horrible performance was different than I expected. He taught me some important lessons about goal setting, life balance, and life in general. Here are some excerpts from his e-mail:

JJ,

Congrats on another marathon finish.

You know, with marathons you are going to have good days and you are going to have bad days. That is just the nature of the marathon distance. Regardless of training, you never know what is going to happen on race day.
Now, I'm not going to give you what you probably want to hear, but here goes: Celebrate the victory, man! You just ran 26.2 miles. However you slice it, that is a good day.

Moving forward, I suggest a different self-leadership perspective. You now have a son. He could care less about your weight, or PR, or your training approaches. What he sees and will grow up seeing is a dad who places emphasis on fitness. What an amazing thing.
To be honest, I see too much rigidness and stress in your process. To me, the fact that your weight is down 15 pounds, you just ran a marathon, and you've been able to train as you have with a baby/toddler, you are the man! Lighten up on yourself and enjoy the ride....

Fascinatingly, another of my goal accountability partners and mentors -- my older brother Joe, who is also a Boston Marathon qualifier -- sent me a shorter e-mail with a similar message. Such upbeat words and attitudes from two Boston Qualifiers I have great respect for helped frame the situation in its proper perspective. It also alleviated an enormous amount of unnecessary self-inflicted pressure. Instead of feeling sorry for myself because I had run poorly on race day, I began to feel good about the significant effort I had invested, and the fact that I made the attempt at all. I also began to reevaluate my goals in light of my life’s present circumstances.

Having a son -- who turned one last week -- has forever changed my life for the better. It has also left me with less discretionary time to train for marathons. In addition, my professional schedule, which includes a lot of travel, has become increasingly demanding this year. In light of these life realities, and after failing 11 times to meet the Boston qualifying standard, I have come to the conclusion that I may need to wait until I am older and the qualifying time isn’t so difficult. And thanks to the wise advice of my respected friend and brother, if that happens, I will be okay with it! I can still continue to run for fitness, focus on enjoying the process, and return to racing at shorter distances, which I have always enjoyed more and been better at anyway.

This does not mean I plan to give up on my marathon goal. I still have two more chances this year in June and October, and I plan to give it my best shot in both races. But if I don’t make it after that, I am going to temporarily retire from the marathon distance until I have more time freedom and a less competitive qualifying time. In the meantime, I will continue to run for fitness and the simple joy I get from running without unhealthily impinging on my family life, professional career, or personal mental hygiene.

Tony Robbins has said:
“When you succeed, you tend to party; but when you fail, you tend to ponder.”
I am grateful for the opportunity this “failure” has provided me to ponder my marathon goal in the greater context of my life. I am also grateful for the blessing of mentors and goal accountability partners who help me to keep things in their proper perspective. Sometimes that means, rather ironically, lowering my own ambitious standards. This has given me greater patience, more realistic expectations, and allowed me to better ENJOY the process!



Points to Ponder:

Are there any personal or professional goals you would be wise to revise based on your personal situation, or your life’s true priorities?

Do you currently have mentors and goal accountability partners who can counsel you as you pursue your personal vision, mission, and goals? If not, who will you ask to do so?

Finding Freedom in INTRApersonal Competition

In last week's post, I discussed the importance of focusing primarily on intrapersonal competition (competing against yourself) rather than interpersonal competition (competing against others) in goal setting.  This is an important aspect of setting SMARTIES Goals.  Today, I share my story that influenced me to change my own viewpoint of competition.

Growing up, I was a very competitive kid.  My passions were running and basketball.


My goal was usually to beat anyone I was competing against.  This objective held up pretty well as a kid. I was always one of the first ones chosen on playground teams growing up, where it was not unusual for me to be "leading the pack."  In the process, I found enormous satisfaction from "beating others" in interpersonal competitions.

As a sophmore, I finished fourth at the Utah State cross-country meet.  For my Junior year, I set a goal to be the 2A State Champion.  I wrote down my goal and displayed it in a prominent place in my bedroom.

That season, I worked hard.  I continually envisioned myself crossing the finish line before anyone else.  My focus and hard work paid off, and I accomplished my goal of becoming a State Champion.

But then something interesting happened: I got greedy.  I really liked the color and appearance of the bright, gold, first-place medal, and I wanted more and more of it.  The following spring, I set my sights on more gold.  This time, I would win all four of my events so I could get FOUR gold medals.

Long story short, I fell short of my track goal.  Instead of four first place finishes at state, I finished with two seconds, a third, and a fourth: zero gold!

I was very disappointed.  For many years after that, I viewed my senior track season as being largely a failure because I did not win any of my events.  This perspective was unfortunate -- and naive.  Why?  Because I had run personal best times in all three distances during the State Meet.  It was the best I had ever done before.  Regardless of my finish compared to others, I should have been very pleased with my performances. I had not yet learned my lesson in intrapersonal competition yet.   

Several years later, after I had completed my 2-year mission, I was again running competitively, this time in college.  College was different than high school. Instead of winning multiple races and being one of the best runners, I rarely won.

Despite my lack of victories, I began noticing something in my performance that was enormously satisfying to me.  The three best races of my life were all run in college, and I did not win any of them.  What made them my best races? First, I ran a personal best time in each one.  Second, I knew in my mind and heart that I had given a complete effort; I had left it all on the track.  I may not have been winning races anymore, but I was getting better, and somehow, that was just as sweet, if not sweeter, than beating others.  

The heightened level of competition in college taught me the great truth that there will almost always be someone out there who is bigger, faster, stronger, smarter, wealthier, and more talented than me, and that is okay!  In this world of over 7 billion people, no one else is exactly like me.  No one else has the same genetics, circumstances, and experiences I do.

This fact makes me at least one in 7 billion, and the same is true for YOU!

This does not mean that competing against others does not have its place, or that you shouldn't try to be better than your competition.  What it means is that competition with others should always be secondary to competition with yourself.  If you focus first on being your best, then your place among others will take care of itself.  If, on the other hand, you become too focused on beating others, you will waste time and energy that could be invested in bettering your own performance.

In our culture, we are conditioned for competition with others.  Media is littered with advertisements that implicitly pit you against the beauty, intelligence, and supposed sophistication of others.  You can't watch television without coming across all kinds of competition programming.  From sports and gameshows to reality shows like Survivor and the Bachelor, there is no shortage of high profile interpersonal competition available just a remote-click away.  This makes it extra challenging to focus your time and energy on intrapersonal competition.

To make matters worse, we often exacerbate these comparisons by pitting our biggest weaknesses against the greatest strengths of others, which is terribly unfair.  In the end, your whole perspective gets knocked askew of reality, and you are left feeling unmotivated and discouraged.

By focusing primarily on being your own best self, you not only increase the likelihood of turning in your own, best performance, but you also maximize your chances for success when you compete with others.  It is a win/win!

Points to Ponder...

In what ways do you waste time and energy worrying about how you compare with others?

What could you do to reinvest this same time and energy in producing your personal best?