This past Saturday I went out for a 12 mile run with a few friends. Absent the beautiful fall colors on display this time of year in North Carolina, there was nothing especially notable about this particular run. However, the fact that it was not notable is notable itself.
Two years ago I set a goal to run 2,023 miles in 2023. After reaching that goal with time to spare, I revised the goal to 3,000 miles, and just barely reached it. Though I have played sports my entire life, I did not get serious about running until a few years ago. I would never have believed that I could run anywhere close to 3,000 miles in just one year, and it took a lot of focus and determination to reach that goal in 2023.
But I think I am more proud of my run this past Saturday. I didn’t set out to run 3,000 miles this year, but on November 8th, nearly 2 months earlier than in 2023, I had done it again.
In all aspects of life, it is commendable when someone accomplishes a difficult or highly improbable feat. However, I have always been more interested in the cases where someone takes a feat of that nature and makes it so routine, so expected, that it ceases to be noteworthy. They accomplish it repeatedly, each time with decreasing fanfare, until it becomes the status quo, where onlookers are more surprised by its lack of occurrence.
While some people seem to be born with a kind of self-confidence that leads them never to doubt whether they can accomplish the feat in the first place, for us mere mortals there is typically a progression from near total disbelief to the quiet, assured confidence of consistent achievement. For most, and certainly for me, there is a clear inflection point in the first time that you reach the goal. While you may gain confidence on the way to it, reaching it eliminates any reservation about whether it is possible. You know it is, and you are keenly aware of precisely what it takes to get there, even if it looks a bit different every time.
Then comes the hard part. With your newfound knowledge of the grit required, you trade your doubt for dread. You tumble back down the mountain, look up, and see that it is just as big as the last time you climbed it. Choosing not to make the journey again is not failure. It does not discount the accomplishment of making the climb once. However, it does take something new, something different than the first time you made the journey, not knowing what was to come.
If you do decide to go again, and then again, and again, the size of the mountain does not change. But eventually, climbing starts to feel like walking used to, and summiting the mountain is no longer exceptional, it’s just living life. Reaching that point is what greatness is to me, and I believe that every person can look at their life and find examples of things they do regularly that previously would have felt impossible. Next time you are faced with a daunting climb, reflect on those things.
First you made it possible, then you made it normal.