Turtle Journey

Sometimes it's nice to have a journey without a destination. Sometimes having a destination is what keeps you going. Choosing a far-flung goal is ambitious, but choosing a goal within sight is honest.

The penalty for undertraining is a bad race. The penalty for overtraining is NO race. Keep that in mind when you feel your achilles twang on the third-to-last repeat and wonder whether or not you should stop. Go slow. Do less. Sleep more. Race well.

Anytime you set off to hit a goal, you're going to encounter points along your path where you want to quit. That's just how it goes: no matter how good or how bad it's going, you're gonna get bored or tired or sad or frustrated and you're gonna wanna stop and-- if you're tough-- you're gonna push through it and it's gonna suck. You do not need to seek out these moments by piling it on when you're feeling good. Enjoy the good moments, enjoy hitting your goal, enjoy the accomplishment, but don't overburden yourself in moments of enthusiasm.

Whether you're climbing a mountain, training for a marathon, crafting an epic painting, finding a new job, or winning over the love of your life, the first step is just putting in time.

I once met a Peruvian tour guide who, at the base of every climb, would sternly warn every tourist that they were not to pass him. He would then proceed to walk very slowly up the hill, and while the group behind him might champ at the bit for the first part of the climb, the altitude would get to them eventually.

Running is like that. I loved running, initially, because it made me feel tough-- the constant wallowing in discomfort-- I took pride in how much work, how much pain I could handle. But the climb gets to you eventually, because vanity is not a sustainable reason to undertake any endeavor. There are a thousand reasons to enjoy the sport, and if you're willing to improve slowly then you will, over time, eventually improve far more than if you rushed.

Sometimes you feel good, and you want to push ahead. That's okay. Sometimes you feel bad, and need to go a bit slower. That's okay, too. Just remember when you feel good how lonely it was when you felt bad, and how much a little bit of company woulda helped. It's easier to go farther with friends.

For sure the fastest I've ever been was when I had nothing else going on in my life. During that time, I was barely employed, a terrible partner, broke, and making no art at all. I miss it every day.

When I was a kid I played hockey. I'd play every winter, take the summer off, then have to spend all of fall getting back in shape. I would sleep on the couch during the first week of fall training because I couldn't climb the stairs to my room. I hated it. Then, during my sophomore year, during a particularly miserable session of endless drills, with the cold air grinding my breaths to an asthmatic wheeze, with seat pouring down my brow despite the freezing temperatures, I realized that I didn't have to hate this. I didn't have to look at it like punishment, as something someone was forcing me to do. I could look at it as an opportunity to get better, I could, even, work much harder than I was working and try to improve more.

That particular moment, the details, has stuck with me despite the decades that have past. It might seem so fundamental, so simple, but at the time the idea that I could choose to work harder and actively improve was a revelation. Luckily, I've been able to carry it with me, and remember it in the more miserable moments of drudgery-- athletic or otherwise.

It's nice when you get a little bit of momentum and don't feel the need to rest once you hit a benchmark. I am a big fan of celebrating small victories, a huge fan of resting, but I also believe that running through your goal is how you compound your progress. Pick humble goals, soar through them, do it again.

When you pursue a path honestly, you will get a lot of negative feedback. Sometimes from outside sources, which of course you ignore. Sometimes, though, the path itself will tell you to turn back. Ignore this as well; it's just the path measuring your resolve. Prepare yourself, though, because you're about to be tested. 

At some point along your journey, you're going to have a string of successes. You're going to feel pretty good. Then, almost without warning, you're going top find yourself in too deep, way out of your depth. The trick is to muster up the confidence you do not feel, to hurdle straight over the line between bravery and stupidity. Tell yourself you are twelve feet tall, five hundred pounds, carrying tree trunks in both hands, and run straight towards your fear. You might fly, you might die-- either way it will be the most important experience of your life. 

Of course, there are always battles you don't need to fight. On your path, there will be distractions from friends or social media feeds-- challenges that look appealing. Don't get suckered into feats for fun or vanity. Remember the mountain you are climbing; remember your goal. 

Louis Zamperini, famous for surviving first an extraordinary amount of time adrift in the Pacific Ocean without food or water and then for years as a brutally mistreated prisoner of war, remarks in his biography that if he knew what he would have to endure after crashing his plane in the ocean he would have simply committed suicide. Sometimes not knowing what you have to face, deciding only to endure until you cannot, is the best way to exceed your limits .

You do not need to execute a perfect workout to win a race. You do not need to perfect your mobility, or breathing, or diet, or foot strike or posture or sleep habits to win a race. You need to win the race, everything else is just window-dressing. It is important to remember this during setbacks, or when facing other metaphorical monsters.

The solution to a problem is often simpler than you think. Not easier, but usually simpler.

After endless weeks of endless miles, grueling intervals, grinding tempos, anxiety, depression, sacrifice, up and downs, joys and woes, you still have to run the fucking race. You still have to climb the mountain one more time.

Seldom do trumpets blare to celebrate your accomplishments. Rarely are your sacrifices and efforts fully appreciated by those around you. No one will ever truly understand what your journey meant to you. Make sure that you cherish the moment as only you can. This will be the last comic that I post for a very long time. Thank you very much for reading.