Big Ideas

Proving YOUR SELF wrong

There is, in each of us, an idea of self. A vision of who we are, what we stand for and what we're capable of accomplishing. Like the perfectionist painter, this idea is the canvas in our closets that we continue to modify and hopefully, improve.

I'm of the belief that this idea of self is always in flux. This last weekend, I ran my first marathon and changed a piece of my self in a meaningful way. This post is about examining my conception of self and one of the tactics that I apply to create change in my life.

 

 

I used to be a small, small kid.. I hated it

Shortly before my 10th birthday, I started taking Tae Kwon Do (TKD). From day one I was hooked. Being shorter or smaller didn't matter. I was fast, I learned quickly, I liked to fight. I was good at it, immediately.

A few months later, my family adopted a cat. Aside from fish, I'd never really had a pet and taking that cat in really opened my eyes to how attached one can get to an animal. We named her Aintabelle (the opposite of Isabelle..super dorky) and I quickly became her favorite.

As coincidence would have it, I have pretty severe pet allergies. We didn't really know it at the time, but when we took in the cat, I inflamed the asthma that was latent in my lungs.

So there I was, 10 years old, passionate about this new sport I'd started, in love with a new cat friend we'd adopted and wheezing. A LOT. Life seemed really unfair to me at the time.

Despite the asthma, I managed to keep practicing TKD. I loved it so much that I fought through the asthma. It'd flare up, but I managed it.

At home, as we figured the allergies out, I had to stop playing with the cat so much (it was hard, I'd usually just stop when my eyes got too red..) and she couldn't go in my room at all. It wasn't perfect, but combined with the inhalers, the allergy meds and the modified diet my parents put together for the cat, we kept it going all throughout my teens.

The thing was, I had asthma.

It was allergy-induced and although exercise exacerbated it, I could make it through in certain situations. I loved TKD so much (perhaps because I'd tried it before having to deal with asthma-attack laden lungs) that I figured out a way to get through. I got stronger and stronger every class and it actually made me more fit. I had to work 20% harder than everyone else, but I didn't care. It meant that I had more gas in the tank when I was finishing matches (my specialty became winning in the final round). I did what I had to do, because I wanted it, just that badly.

PE and school sports however, were another matter. When cross-country and track and field came around, I tried to compete, like I did for all of our sports. I ran a bit but didn't really enjoy it. It was torture, running while having lungs that were not terribly efficient and seeing other kids go so much faster with much less work. It demoralized me.

Physically, I developed two self-images

At school I became the kid with asthma, who couldn't run when you had to run in PE or who would, but was slow and had the inhaler. That was me. From time to time, I'd feel great and run well, but most of the time, I was slow, it was painful and I hated it.

Meanwhile, at TKD I was a different person entirely. I matured, I competed, I did well and it was a virtuous cycle of reinforcement. Day after day, month after month, I developed an idea of who I was in my TKD uniform: I was a competitor, a winner, an instructor, a coach. A leader. More than anything, Tae Kwon Do taught me how to lead when I was a teenager.. it was incredible.

Why was this happening?

I think that while my asthma is much more prone to flaring up when I'm running (particularly uphill) what really occurred was that asthma became more than just a physical ailment that impeded my performance. It became something that formed my sense of self. Thinking about that for a few moments is, for me, really enlightening.:

The way in which I saw the world, the opportunities available to me, the possibilities in life.. all of the options in my head became affected by a physical affliction.

I got it in my head that I wanted to be good at TKD. That I could prove myself through it - that martial arts, unlike other sports, were a place where the fact that I was smaller, smarter and not white didn't matter. They might even be assets. My frame of reference, at TKD, gave me the ability to envision great success, despite asthma.

I decided that I could and would be good at TKD and with hard work and practice, I was right.

But it wasn't sustainable

As I met with more success in TKD, a disturbing pattern began to emerge. I'd prepare myself for the competitions and then, day of, I was often less interested in winning the competition than just getting it over with. Many times, I only really invested myself in winning when I thought I had something to prove to others. There was the match where the kid was double my size (no joke - I weighed 50+lbs, he weighed 98 lbs), or the numerous times when I sparred the adults in class and I'd destroy them for taking it easy on me. More often than not, I was motivated to prove others wrong.

I remember two distinct moments of clarity on this point:

- The first occurred when I was preparing for the state championships my senior year of high school. I was at this point, the favorite. I'd won the past 3 or 4 years and I'd actually competed nationally a number of times. It was a strange feeling, being the favorite. I took training easier. I didn't push myself to fight the bigger, tougher opponents in my classes. My friend Rocky had argued with me, saying that if I forced myself to run, I'd be in even better shape and would be able to not just finish the fights strong, but to finish the tournament strong. Fighting 4 or 5 9-minute bouts was devastatingly tiring. He was right. I didn't care. I ran once and stopped.

- The second occurred at the high school graduation party my parents threw me. My master came to the party. At this point, he'd been part of my life for 9 years. I was his 3rd student. He cared for me quite a bit. He made me who I am, in some ways. He talked with my parents about the fact that he was disappointed that I was leaving the state and couldn't continue to train with him for Nationals and the Olympic Games. I heard about this later from my parents and the overriding thought in my head was, "That sounds like too much work."

At some point, I'd taught myself to rely upon others for motivation

I'd looked to prove other people wrong with TKD in the first place and followed that pattern by looking to others for motivation to get better at TKD. Progress, after a while, became a series of spurts, rather than steadily occurring change. I've learned that this approach doesn't tend to work well in the long run. We have to create and maintain the habits that define us. It requires continuous investment and repetition, that's why it is, in fact, habitual.  My habits take work, regularly.

So, one of the habits that I care a great deal about is that of self-motivation.

When no one has expectations of you or they already think that you're doing well, you can often coast and make excuses if you don't live up to expectations. The reality of the world that I live in is that it doesn't take a tremendous amount of work to just tread water. In personal and professional life, being average to above-average doesn't seem to be challenging. Of course, this is contextual, so I understand that I exist in a privileged class. I might rephrase this and say: coasting, in life, appears to be the norm. 

I think that in some ways, this reflects upon how much we want to be seen as "nice" people. In the world that I live in, very few people are truly honest in their evaluations of one another. They bottle problems up, they hold back with suggestions, they get scared to give praise. While this is polite, it also makes it much less likely that we can look to others for motivation. One of the reasons that I have this blog is to solicit feedback and motivation from my friends. Only a few of you choose to :)

I don't think that this is terrible. It does, however, explain why I'm more likely to give you feedback and try to offer praise. I have had to learn that I can't rely upon you for motivation.

Which is why this habit is called self-motivation

Over the past several years, I've taken up running. It started off slowly - 10 and 15 minutes on the treadmill at the gym. Jogging really slowly with friends. Introducing myself to the idea of enjoying running, not hating it. I found something amazing happened once I started running outside in San Francisco: I got happier.

It really was as simple as that. One day I started running down to the Marina and along the water and after that I couldn't stop. It's just that beautiful, calming and energizing for me. I've always loved the water and running along it made me appreciate running and San Francisco far more than ever before.

As I ran, I got healthier, I got happier and I taught myself self-motivation.

At first, when I started running regularly, I found myself looking at how others were doing in order to find a reason to push myself a little harder. I was falling back on the habits I'd developed in TKD. But I realized it and sought to change it.

Now, when I run, I play mind games with myself. Sometimes I see someone running faster and see if I can keep up with them to test if I'm taking it too easily. I see how much of a song I can make it through at a dead sprint at the end of my run (I was up to half a song or ~2 1/2 mins). In short, I learned to focus inside for my running motivation and increased performance.

I made myself start running the bridge, to see if I could do it.

I could.

I took the US Half Marathon course map and did it, the day before the race, to see if I could do it.

I could.

I started training with Allison for the LA marathon, to see if I could get my mileage up quickly.

I could.

3 weeks after Allison said that she was going to do the marathon, I knew I was in. I wanted to see if I could prove that my past self could be changed. I wanted to see if I could grow far beyond the asthma attacks of my youth to complete a marathon.

I could.

 

Pushing yourself isn't just about being positive

Which brings me back to the title of this post, "Proving your self wrong". As much as it was important for me to build myself up and enter the race, feeling as if I could do the marathon, that's not the whole story.

Many of us know and believe that being positive is a great thing, that it helps us push forward in life. But many of us forget that along the way, we reach points where we feel as if we CAN'T do anything. In those moments, many of us vow to avoid those can't determinations again. We don't push through.

I was twittering, leading up to the marathon and during it, because I wanted to document some of my thinking for myself (and anyone else who was interested). In mile 20 of the race, I twittered:

"Mile 20. I can do this. I can do this."

I didn't twitter however, that at mile 23 of the marathon, I KNEW that I couldn't finish. I felt it in my legs. They were done. Too tired. I'd gone out too fast, shouldn't have separated from my partner at mile 12 and it was far hotter than I was used to. My head told me something:

I wasn't going to be able to finish.

And so, what I want people to remember is that sometimes, it's not that you're lacking a positive outlook. It's that you need to prove yourself wrong. If you want something out of life but think you've objectively determined that you can't have it... you're probably right.

But what if you're wrong?

Go test yourself. Your self just might change.

 

Technorati Tags: First marathon, sense of self, proving yourself wrong, self-motivation

"It's a marathon, not a sprint"

In my first job after college, I was an "I-banker" at Deutsche Bank and my first Associate, Campo, used to repeat over and over again the above mantra.

I always found it rather ironic, given that my experiences subsequently taught me that banking is a pretty short-sighted profession that prefers to sprint on the backs of its employees. Day after day, week after week, the "fire drills" of the profession burn out most of the employees and the major method of keeping employees is by buying their time at ever-increasing rates.

Like few other people that I've met, I think about the long term.

I believe that we're constantly building and growing what it means to be "me". Our actions, our words, our choices - they provide us with a body of work that makes up the idea of self. I'd say that from the age of about 5, I understood at a very deep level that what I do today provides the idea of who I am tomorrow - to myself, to my friends, to my parents (the specific story involves Big Wheels, the park and McDonald's..).

One of the challenges that comes with this perspective on life is that I'm ALWAYS looking ahead, thinking about what's coming up, where I want to be going and how I should get there. It's similar to what happens as I finish my run by heading up Fillmore St. - I look up to see if there are obstacles/people that I'm going to have to adjust for and I make sure to adjust so that I don't have to suddenly change my pace or gait.

However, if all that I'm focused on is UP the hill, I forget that there are things at my feet, these steps, that I have to negotiate on my way up the hill.  If I forget to watch what's directly in front of me enough, I'll NEVER make it up the hill to the obstacles in the distance.

This is a tradeoff that all of us are faced with in our lives. The question is an everpresent undercurrent every single time we make a choice: "Will you think about just right now or are you thinking about tomorrow, the next day and 5 years from now?". We answer it with our actions, our words, our perspectives, our self-measurements.. our lives. Some of us ONLY live in the moment. Others among us only live in the IMAGINED possibilities.

Over the past several years this question has consumed me. Again and again, I've looked at this question, turned it over in my head and wondered to myself,  "How I can know if I should be thinking about the long term or the short term right now?"

It was only this past year that I successfully addressed it.

The problems of perception are myriad, but one of the hardest is accepting the fact that your view of the world disallows you from seeing ALL possible angles. I've come to accept that no matter what, I always see the sprint through a marathoner's eyes. I always view the short term choices through the prism of my long term goals.

I'm never going to see the world as others who think only about the short term think. I can only hope to know enough about the steps in front of me that I successfully navigate them and save myself from falling on my face. I'll leave the bulk of the responsibilities to those who think about the short term. My talents lie in the long term and it is there where I'll do my best work.

I feel like I'm finally ready for this marathon. See you at the finish line.

Technorati Tags: short-term vs. long-term thinking, marathon not a sprint

All the small things..

The chance encounter

The question you hesitated to ask, but finally did

The offhand mention of an interest

The tiny bounce of a ping pong ball

 

This entry is about those tiny little things that happen that make a huge difference in many peoples' lives. (and yes, it's a bit inspired by the Blink 182 song)

As we weave our way through our lives, we ask ourselves hundreds of times a day, thousands of times a week, "does this really matter?" For the most part, this questioning doesn't even occur consciously. We sift through the minutiae of our lives on an automatic basis. Yesterday's post was about failure and one of my examples was that of being a young child reading. It turns out that after you learn how to read and deal with mistakes, you tend to filter out words that seem alike, you process them quickly and assign them meanings automatically. This is the efficiency of the brain, the filtering mechanisms of every day life. It's helpful, but not always accurate.

 

May 22nd, 2007 happened to be the day that might have changed basketball in Seattle for the foreseeable future. Why? Because of the small things of course.

That was the evening that the NBA draft lottery was held. Despite the odds, the Seattle Sonics got the 2nd pick in the 2007 draft. A bunch of bouncing ping pong balls determined that the Sonics would have the chance to draft a potential superstar.

Tonight, June 28th, was the draft. The Seattle Sonics got, arguably, the best pick in the draft: Kevin Durant. This is notable for two reasons: 1) He happens to be one of the most explosive, high potential, franchise-changing basketball players that I've ever had the fortune to watch before hitting the NBA 2) The Sonics franchise, until today, was mostly in shambles. Losing season after losing season, a subpar arena, a disgruntled management group and an apathetic city fan base have led most in the basketball world to believe that the Sonics won't be in Seattle for much longer.

The bounce of a ping pong ball might have changed that. 

The fact that the Sonics got to take Kevin Durant today might have meant that Seattle, through public funding and fan interest (buying tix, lobbying the management group etc) will keep basketball in the city. As a loyal Sonics fan, this makes me exceptionally pleased. As an anonymous taxpayer, I wonder if this is the best use of resources but...

The point is: the small things matter. Not always, but sometimes.. sometimes, the smallest little detail has a humongous impact. Don't forget that when you're trying to decide to act/stay passive. 

Today/tonight might just have been the perfect proof of that. Only time will tell.

 

Technorati tags: Seattle Sonics, Kevin Durant, The Small Things

My first "idol"

I'm a closet baseball fan. I say this because I'm a Seattle Mariners fan. Unfortunately, being a Mariners fan has mostly meant disappointment over the years. They've made the playoffs a few times, but aside from the miracle/disaster 116-win season in 2001, there really hasn't been much hope of winning the World Series in Seattle.

At the same time that it's been tough to be a Mariners fan, I was also fortunate to be developing my sports loyalties right when Ken Griffey Jr. joined the team. These days, most people don't give much thought to Griffey, but when he joined the league, he was "The Kid". A boy wonder with the perfect swing, amazing defensive capabilities (the picture below is of an amazing catch he made that resulted in him breaking his wrist) and a charming personality; he took Seattle and the baseball world by storm in the 90's.

 

I've come to realize over time that I don't really idolize anyone. I admire people, I seek to learn from them and emulate some of their characteristics, but I really don't idolize anyone. That was different when I was a kid though.

Ken Griffey Jr. was my first and maybe only idol. I can remember playing out in the backyard with my friend Lane, pretending we were Griffey, roaming center field, stealing home runs from hitters. Time after time, we'd throw the ball towards the other one, putting it out of reach to make the other dive for the ball. Every time we managed to pull it off, the we'd mimic the announcer's voice, soaked in amazement at the feat he'd just witnessed. We did this every summer for years.  It was definitely some of the most fun I had at that age.

(Of course, to our parents inside the house, they'd just see their idiot kid running and diving full body onto the grass, ruining clothes, elbows and knees... kind of a funny juxtaposition)

 

This weekend, Griffey returns as a Red, to play in Seattle for the first time since he left. It's been written up a lot in the the Seattle Times and they do a great job of describing what he meant to the city and why this weekend is kind of special, so I've included the links below. I have to admit, I'm a little sad I'm not up there to witness it myself.  

Griffey returns to Seattle

How Griffey saved baseball in Seattle

Top 10 Griffey moments

 

So, here's a question for you all: who was your first idol and why?

 

Technorati tags: Ken Griffey Jr., Seattle Mariners, Griffey returns to Seattle, Your first idol

What would Plato think of this?

In The Republic, Plato introduces his ideal ruler; the Philosopher-king. The wikipedia entry does a good job of laying out the details of the concept and more of the argument, but to summarize, he suggests that those most fit to rule are highly educated and physically capable.

So, when I check out this amazing piece on the new sport of chessboxing, I think to myself, "Hmm, maybe this isn't so crazy..". I mean really, it sounds absurd and I wonder if it'll ever catch on and be successful, but is it a bad thing to emphasize being physical and mentally fit? To be able to succeed under pressure and be nimble, mentally and physically?

Besides, combat sports are at least as much a mental game as they are physical. I practiced Tae Kwon Do for 10 years and despite being generally smaller than my opponents I was pretty successful because of what I brought to it mentally. My master always used to talk about match management as being a chess game. He wanted us to strike early, identify weaknesses, adjust and capitalize. Sound familiar?

I digress. Check out the piece, tell me what you think and let me know if you want to start up a chessboxing match any time soon. I'm off to work on my game :)

 Tags: chessboxing, plato, philosopher-king, modern sports, personal development