There is a lot sitting out there in the not-so-distant future. Omicron is resurfacing our COVID anxieties. The Supreme Court is teasing a massive reversal on abortion rights. Markets are acting weird. Many of us have new remote work policies coming that will mark a big change from the last two years. Add to that a new year and the anticipation and pressure that comes with it.
In the face of so much unknown, it can be easy to fixate on what is to come. We wonder how bad Omicron will turn out to be, fearful that it will put us back in masks or separate us once again during the holidays. We absorb all the information we can find to help us prepare, and in the process add fuel to our fears and anxieties.
This focus on the horizon often comes at the expense of what’s immediately in front of us. The anticipation of a policy change at work keeps us from enjoying the flexible time we have left. Or the decision to diet someday in the near future makes us feel guilty for every indulgent bite around the holidays.
Something similar happens in the long trail races I’ve run. Up against a fifty miler in the woods, it’s easy to fixate on everything out in front of me, both literally – the brutal uphill in the distance – and figuratively – the twenty five miles I have left to run. My instincts tell me to worry about the future, and ask myself whether I can handle it.
This might make sense in theory, but in practice it’s impossible. A race is not run by looking out on the sections ahead, but by focusing on the ground right in front of you. There are rocks to avoid, roots to step over and puddles to go around. And while it’s smart to know what you’re up against – if, say, there’s a mountain left to climb – obsessing over the arduous path ahead is a fool’s errand. Fifty miles is a long way to go, particularly if you’re tripping over yourself and counting down every mile.
What I’ve found trail running is that the path immediately in front of me is my best tool for getting through the race. In the abstract, fifty miles through the woods sounds impossible, but in the moment, winding my way down a section of trail, focused on each individual step, it’s not so bad. By the time I’ve avoided one set of roots, I’m met with another, and another, and another, until all of a sudden I look up and realize I’ve run the whole thing.
Does this mean I do zero planning? Absolutely not. I have a rough idea of what the course looks like and where the major obstacles are. I have food, water and my cell phone for emergencies. I know how often I’ll need to refuel and when I should stop and walk. Even if I’m planning to be out there for eight hours, I’m ready for much longer. In short, I’ve thought through a range of outcomes and won’t be taken by surprise by any of them.
As we wrap up this year and head into a new one, I’m spending time considering the things I’ve learned on the trail, which, not surprisingly, are bits of wisdom that have been repeated throughout history:
- Stay in the present
- Focus on what you can control
- Prepare for the worst
Stay in the present
Never let the future disturb you. You will meet it, if you have to, with the same weapons of reason which today arm you against the present.
Marcus Aurelius
Challenges arise every day and we solve them. That’s a fact. But for some reason, we forget this when it comes to future events. Each one of us has made it through the ups and down of past COVID variants and will do so again this time. We’ve adapted to seismic shifts in the way we work and to laws we disagree with.
Mother Theresa, Gandhi and Abraham Lincoln all counseled us to focus on the present. They recognized that an obsession over future events took away from the current moment – which is the only place we ever truly are. The time and place to worry about that steep hill in front of you is the moment you reach it.
Focus on what you can control
God grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change,
the courage to change the things I can,
and the wisdom to know the difference.
So much is outside of our control as individuals moving throughout the world. How our politicians choose to conduct themselves. How the people around us choose to conduct themselves. There’s a reason why the Serenity Prayer is part of the 12-step program – often the circumstances that lead people to addiction are far outside of their control.
You may have no control over weather on race day, but you can decide the things that matter: having the right gear, training in all conditions, keeping a positive attitude. When something happens, ask yourself: “Could I change this outcome?” If the answer is no, let it be.
Prepare for the worst
Dale Carnegie said it best:
Ask yourself, “What is the worst that can possibly happen?”
Prepare to accept it if you have to.
Then calmly proceed to improve on the worst.
Our fixation on the future distracts us from the one thing we need to do most: Consider how we will react when the worst comes to pass. The anxious runner asks herself “will I cramp?”, while the prepared runner asks herself “when I cramp, how will I get through it?” The difference is obvious, and yet it can be difficult to choose the latter in the moment. Consider times when you find yourself hoping for one particular outcome and dreading another. Accept the dreaded outcome as fact and spend your time preparing to meet it head on.
None of this is easy. If it were, smart people in history wouldn’t have written about it. But like all habits, it gets easier with time. At least that’s what I’ve found on the trail.
– Emmett
What I’m Reading:
Now It’s My Turn To Talk – Anne Helen Peterson, Culture Study
“For young, American, urban, college grads, we are living in probably the top one percent of lives that have ever been possible. Access to such a diverse set of cultural experiences, knowledge, art, people, ideas, disposable income…but the politics of this group often presents as so pessimistic and furious. Of course, there are so many things to be angry about, and it’s great if people are animated by empathy for other groups, but it seems unlikely to me that this generation is somehow the most empathetic of all.”
Try Patriotism – Noah Smith
“The lesson here is a general one, I think: People want to like their country. They can be disappointed in it or mad at it or frustrated with it, but ultimately they want to think that they’re part of something good. And that desire can be used to great effect if a political movement manages to capture it, uphold it, and validate it.”
Abortion: The Voice of the Ambivalent Majority – David Brooks, NY Times
“We’re now trying to deal with a miserably complex issue in a brutalized political culture. Majorities don’t rule in this country; polarized minorities do. The evidence this week is that the post-Roe politics would make even our current politics seem tame. I’m not sure our democracy is strong enough for that.”