“What is your vision?”
People ask leaders that question frequently. Whether for their personal life or their organization, leaders are expected to have a long-term vision for where they are going. But I am discovering that, at least in some areas, it might be best not to look too far ahead.
This perspective has become painfully clear to me as I have tried to become physically fit. I had an athlete’s body when I was in high school and college (those were the days!). But then graduate school, kids, and working the graveyard shift struck with a vengeance. I continued to eat the same quantity of food, but I wasn’t burning off the calories as quickly anymore. Getting out of shape doesn’t happen all at once. It occurs gradually. Pants start to feel snug. Suit jackets don’t quite meet in the middle. You feel winded after walking only a short distance. Eventually, you say those fateful words: “I’ve got to get back in shape.”
I began, as you’re supposed to, with a long-term vision. Not one to do things in moderation, (which was why I needed to lose some weight) I vowed to lose 34 pounds and ultimately run the Atlanta Peachtree Road Race, America’s largest 10K. With my goals in place, I set out to achieve them. I bought great running shoes (aff). I purchased a water belt (aff) so I could carry water with me on my runs. Someone gave me compression socks (aff) and a lighter, more absorbent headband (aff). By the time I got new running clothing and had downloaded a running app, I looked like a runner (well, an out-of-shape runner). So far, my plan was coming together just as I envisioned it!
Then the rubber hit the road. My initial goal was to run 5K without stopping to gasp, wheeze, or cough up a lung. I always began my runs with noble intentions. But then I would look at the road ahead. I would see the hill on the horizon, and, inevitably, I’d get psyched out. As I began to ascend the hill, my legs would burn. My heart would race. My head would feel faint, and I’d slow to a walk. “I’ll just walk up this hill and then continue running on the other side,” I’d tell myself. Often, I would. But then I’d see another hill dead ahead. Before long, I would decide to just walk the remainder of the course that day. I would tell myself, “On my next run, I’ll do the whole thing!” But I never did.
I was beginning to feel increasingly frustrated with myself. I knew I was physically capable of running a 5K, but I was being defeated mentally every time. The same was true of my eating. I travel for a living and often stay in high-end hotels. They always have great food and delicious desserts. That, coupled with hours spent in meetings or on airplanes, was causing my weight to stubbornly refuse to vacate the premises, despite my best intentions. The problem is that when you have been defeated enough times, you may still go through the rituals of trying, but you know you will ultimately fail.
Wise leaders understand that if you keep doing things the same way, you will continue getting the same results. It was time to change things up. One day, I messaged my son Daniel who lives across the street from me and asked him to run with me the next day. I told him I needed some accountability so I could finally reach my goal. Sure enough, we ran 5K that first day. The next day, we did a 5K even faster. I realized that I had never been physically incapable of the feat. But I had been mentally defeated before I ever laced up my shoes.
The next day, I ran by myself and set a new personal best for time. But I also realized something else. I needed to stop looking so far ahead. Whenever I peered down the road and saw a hill on the horizon, my mind immediately began debating whether I should walk up that hill, slow down to catch my breath, or cut my run short. My mind began a defeatist spiral that always led to me doing less than I could have. Likewise, when I thought of the total amount of weight I needed to lose, the entire project seemed too immense, and losing half a pound felt like a drop in the bucket. But sometimes we think too much! I learned to focus on the next few steps, not the entire 3.1 miles. I might be approaching a hill, but that didn’t matter. All I cared about was taking my next few steps. If I was climbing a hill, I didn’t need to look up and see how much further the hill ascended into the clouds; I just needed to keep my eye on the road and continue moving forward. Before I knew it, I’d crest that hill and be thrilled I had run the whole thing. If I lost half a pound, or if the scale said I’d gained a pound, I didn’t give up. I hunkered down to make sure I stuck to my eating plan the next day and refused to make any exceptions.
I believe this simple principle could do wonders to help people achieve important life goals. I can’t tell you how many people have told me they always wanted to earn a master’s or doctor’s degree, but they said they were “sick of school.” In other words, the degree they sought was located on a hill, and their mind started making excuses for why jogging to the top would be too difficult. I know people who have intended to read a classic book. But it sat on their bedside table for a decade, unread. They know reading it would be beneficial, but there are so many pages! Weight loss is similar. Americans are notorious for carrying too much weight. Many people know they would feel better, experience less illness, have more energy, and live longer if they lost some weight, but most never do. Reaching their goal just appears too difficult. “If God wanted me to be skinny, why did He make me like cookies so much?” So, they sigh and pray doctors will soon invent a cheap weight loss pill.
I do not write these words as a chiseled Greek god who runs a half marathon every morning before breakfast. I still have a long way to go. But last week I hit four miles. The very next day I ran five miles. My goal (for now) is 6.2 miles (a 10K). I’ve also lost 22 pounds so far. I still struggle. I have days when my mind is frantically searching for a viable excuse to quit. “You didn’t sleep well last night; maybe this should be a shorter run today . . . You got away later this morning than usual, and the sun is already getting hot . . . Your stomach is a bit upset today; better take it easy . . . You had such a great day yesterday; maybe it’s best to back off a bit today . . .” It is amazing how creative your mind can be when it is looking for an excuse not to do what is best!
What I have learned is that, sometimes, the long view is a mistake. It involves too many questions and uncertainties. “Can I afford another degree? Will I be able to get a job afterward? Will I be too old to make good use of it? It’s probably not worth the effort and expense . . .” And, just like that, you’ve talked yourself out of doing something that would have enriched your life and opened new doors of opportunity.
Earlier this week, I set a new personal best and ran four miles. That evening, I sensed I could have run five. I took the long view for a few minutes. I imagined handing my wife my cell phone so she could see I had run five miles. I imagined the praise she would shower on me. I imagined telling my kids and how good it would feel personally to have achieved that milestone, just 1.2 miles from my goal. I enjoyed the long view all evening as I basked in my future success. But the next morning when I laced up my running shoes, I looked down at the street in front of me and began putting one foot in front of the other, one step at a time. Fifty minutes later, I hit the coveted five-mile plateau, just as I had pictured.
Imagine for a moment if you were to achieve your goal of losing weight, getting in shape, writing that book, or completing that project. Think about how good that will feel! Consider the opportunities your success might create for you and the confidence and joy it will bring you. Bask in that for a moment. Then set those thoughts aside and take up the daily goals of putting one foot in front of the other and not quitting until you arrive at your destination.
There is a time for the long view, when you consider where your life needs to go in the future. But much of life is worked out daily in the short view, taking the next step and not quitting until you eventually achieve your goal.
