Today I rode 50 miles on the spin bike at the gym.
It was one of my summer goals, and I feel great that I did it. My kids are at camp this week, and I had a totally free morning, so I thought, “Why not today?” Riding 50 miles isn’t necessarily a hard thing, but if you’re not used to riding, it certainly could be. Those bike seats were not designed for comfort!
Prior to today, the most I had ever ridden was 33 miles, and that took me almost two hours. I knew this was going to be a commitment—my entire morning—so I queued up some new podcasts and headed to the gym earlier than usual.
Here I must digress so we can have a little discourse about goals:
In the book, Sully, Chesley B. Sullenberger, the hero pilot of US Airways Flight 1549, describes something called situational analysis, which is being able to create and maintain a very accurate real-time model of your reality.
I almost gave up on that 50 mile ride before I even started.
When I walked into the gym this morning, a blast of hot air greeted me. The air conditioning was broken! I could have postponed the ride. No one would have blamed me. The spin room, already smelly from the class before, had little air circulation. A box fan stood in the doorway. This was my reality, but my reality also included an empty calendar and a day free of responsibility, since my kids were all at camp. Besides, I had already told several people about my plan to ride 50 miles.
After Sully evaluated his reality (a rapidly descending plane and no chance of reaching a nearby landing strip), he began talking about goal sacrificing. Goal sacrificing is being able to make a mental shift in priorities when it’s no longer possible to complete all your goals. You sacrifice lower-priority goals in order to perform and fulfill higher goals. Sully would land the plane on the Hudson River!
Forty-five minutes into the hour-long class I took to begin my ride, a gym employee removed the box fan from the door to the spin room. Oh, no! I still had two and half hours of riding ahead of me, and the temperature inside this room was rising by the minute! On its own, my Monday morning 55 minute class is a decent workout. Even if I decided not to ride 50 miles on this day, I could still go home and pat myself on my sweaty back for burning over 600 calories and completing a challenging twenty mile ride with friends. (My version of goal sacrificing)
What I didn’t want to do, however, was become yet another casualty in a grueling tale of escalation of commitment. This scenario, first described by Barry M. Staw in 1976, illustrates our tendency to remain committed to our past behaviors, particularly those exhibited publicly, even if they do not have desirable outcomes.
I had already told several people, including the spin instructor, that I was planning to ride 50 miles on this day. “You can do it!” she said. “Don’t give up!” And yet…I was having second thoughts.
I was hot. I was tired. And honestly, my butt was starting to ache.
Our friend Chesley Sullenberger is also famous for saying, “A delay is better than a disaster.”
And he should know. He safely landed an airplane in the middle of the Hudson River, saving the lives of all 155 people on board.
I could always find another open morning on my calendar later this summer.
At the risk of being dramatic…
I didn’t think I was in danger of heat exhaustion (I mean, I wasn’t going to actually die), I took inventory of my assets—two extra-large bottles of water, a towel for wiping sweat, plenty of energy (I ate two protein balls right before class) and those aforementioned podcast downloads.
I could do this!
Achieving anything worthwhile is hardly ever the result of one big effort but the cumulative effect of a series of small efforts. There’s nothing inherently exciting about riding a bike, running a marathon, or even building a business. We keep going even when it’s boring. Even when it’s hard. And sometimes even when nobody but us will care about the work it took to get there.
Like Sully and every single person who has ever achieved anything worthwhile, preparation and a positive attitude can make a world of difference.
When we do succeed at these small goals, we remind ourselves that we are both capable and courageous. We are pushed to bigger and better goals. It’s as if each small win harkens a voice from The Little Engine that Could, “I think I can, I think I can” until we begin to believe the truth that says I don’t just think I can, I know I can do hard things.
While I rode, Gavin sent me several encouraging texts and I recorded some pretty lengthy video messages via Marco Polo to two friends. I’d be lying if I said the time went by fast, but I’m reminded of a famous quote from author Dorothy Parker and repeated often by writers everywhere:
I don’t like writing.
I like having written.
I like to say: I don’t like riding.
I like having ridden.
And I did it!
Tell me about your summer goals. What’s on your list? How can I encourage you?