One of you reminded me of something critical I left out of last week’s newsletter: The source of our shoulds. “Comparison is the thief of joy,” you wrote, “it’s cliche but true.” We don’t just tell ourselves to do things out of thin air – we look at others and decide we should be doing more of what they’re doing.
Nothing demonstrates the futility of such comparison better than amateur “racing,” and as luck would have it, I ran a half marathon this past Sunday, fresh on the heels of this reader’s response. It was my first race in two years, and it was a good one: I set out to break 1:30:00, and I finished in 1:29:44. Tough to complain about that.
For everyone but the twenty or so runners at the head of the pack, a race is an individual endeavor. I’m racing the clock, and whether I hit my goal as the 50th finisher or the 500th, I’ll be happy. I know my abilities and can plan accordingly. On Sunday, that meant starting at a 7:05 pace, holding it for the first couple of miles, and then chipping away from there.
But racing is never that simple. There were 780 other runners, and my instinct to compare overwhelmed my resolve to stick to my race plan. When people passed me early on, I judged them for going out too fast and wondered whether I should speed up. When people stopped to get water, I judged them for drinking so soon and wondered whether I should be hydrating. Even with my own strategy, I couldn’t help assuming that everyone else was doing it right.
Of course, I knew nothing about the runners I compared myself against. Everyone else had their own race plan they were struggling to follow. The guy hobbling next to me could have been undertrained or recovering from an overuse injury. The woman flying past in shiny Nikes could have set a new personal record or vomited by the side of the road. Anything’s possible. And in the moment we crossed paths, I had no idea where they were coming from or where they were going.
One of my favorite self-improvement mantras is hike your own hike. It’s simple and intuitive, and can be adapted as needed. Pursue your own career. Live your own life. Run your own race. It’s a reminder to stay focused on your journey, and to do things that make sense for you. And it was all I could think about during my half marathon.
As I wrote last week, “my hike” means reading in bed at 8 p.m. and spending quality time with friends and family. And “my race” means going out slow, running hard up hills and hydrating often. Understanding your own path is step one, and until something changes, I have a pretty good sense of mine.
Where I often struggle is step two: Sticking to my path despite the distractions. In racing that struggle is obvious – don’t run a 6-minute mile just cause everyone else is – but in other areas it’s more complicated. Should I be getting promoted as quickly as my friends from college? Should I be traveling more? Why don’t I have nicer things? The comparisons become bigger and more frequent.
My default has always been to focus on avoiding comparisons in the first place. To squash the feelings of envy or inadequacy or self-doubt before they arise. And sometimes this works – it’s a rare thing when I see a nice car and wish I had one, or hear about an exotic weekend trip somewhere and wish I’d gone.
But if I can’t squash the feelings in a simple race, how could I possibly expect to do so in life? A half marathon has a singular goal, and I’m up against strangers. In life, my goals are not so clearly defined, and I’m “racing” against my friends, family and coworkers. I may prioritize wellbeing over money, but what happens when a close friend has wellbeing and money? Suddenly I find myself questioning my career and lifestyle.
As we all know, suppressing the feelings just makes things worse. We compare ourselves to others and feel bad, then punish ourselves for it and feel awful. “Why aren’t I more successful?” becomes “Why can’t I be happy with what I have?”, and neither seems like a good place to spend much time.
Instead, we can accept our natural instinct to compare and focus on how we respond. When someone starts to pass me in a race, I can remind myself of a few things:
- Their goals aren’t my goals
- Their abilities aren’t my abilities
- Their training isn’t my training
- Their race isn’t my race
I can give myself license to be jealous, or feel that pang of insecurity – damn they’re fast! – and still recognize that chasing them down their path would be destructive to my own. It’s Jordan Peterson’s Rule #4:
“Compare yourself to who you were yesterday, not to who someone else is today.”
It’s all just a stupid race anyway.
– Emmett
What I’m Reading:
The Arena – Robert Glazer, Friday Forward
“Clearly Foley and Peloton made many mistakes along the way. But so does anyone who is taking risks and doing something for the first time, especially in the public eye. And while it’s fine to criticize, it’s also crucial to remember that it is always easier to criticize than to create.”
The Most Cringeworthy Productivity Advice – Khe Hy, Rad Reads
“When left untethered, productivity advice can eat us alive and stamp out the beauty, creativity, nature, laughter and love that are the essence of life itself.”