Focusing on the Finish Line Instead of the Goal Leads to Incontinence
When my husband proposed to me, I doubt he envisioned a future with a grown woman who peed in front of him simply because she freaked herself out. But hey, you never know.
The 5k Dream
It was a crisp fall morning. My first race. I could feel the excitement in the air as Benjamin and I arrived at the 5k in Salem, OR. This was going to be awesome.
I eagerly accepted my T-shirt, a symbol of all the work I had put into training. Using the popular Couch-to-5K plan to train, I was ready to run. And I love accomplishing goals. This was a milestone I could check off. In no time at all, I’d move on to new cardiovascular dreams. Soon I’d be running marathons. Let’s get moving.
Ready, Set, Pee
Finally, we were off. I told myself I wouldn’t start out too fast, don’t get all the adrenaline out at the beginning and have no energy left at the end, right? But as we progressed, I began to observe the other runners, particularly those going faster than me and my quicksand legs. There were elderly people passing me! In no time at all, I was exhausted, and I began to freak out.
What if I can't finish? Why didn’t I train more? Why did I think I was ready? What if I have to stop and walk? Walking would be the ultimate failure.
First I freaked, then I began to cry.
There I was, being passed by men, women, and children. I was in pain and on the verge of an emotional breakdown, all over a daunting 5k…
My husband, who has the ability to run much faster, faithfully stayed beside me. "Just keep going, just keep moving," he encouraged even though he probably felt like he was wogging (that’s when you move your arms like you’re jogging but you’re going so slow that you could actually walk faster). And so I did. I kept moving.
The Peeing
Plodding along for the better part of an eternity, my eyes finally brightened. The finish line...There it was, on the horizon. The most beautiful sight in my athletic career. I could do this.
And then my heart sank. As we crested the hill, the weight of reality poured over me - a false finish. We still had a good stretch before our feet crossed the line. (It was probably only a minute or two more of running, but who’s counting?!).
And that, my friends, is when the floodgates opened. To put it simply, I lost control. I n’t just sobbing from my eyes. Ladies and gentlemen, I was sobbing in my pants too, and once I started peeing, I couldn't stop.
“Right now?” Benjamin asked when I told him what was happening under my nifty breakaway pants.
Yes, my darling, I was peeing as I wogged (see previous definition).
And did he shame me? Did he tell me I was disgusting? No. In fact, Benjamin astutely observed that with the black pants, you couldn’t tell I was peeing, and so, we just kept moving, urine and all.
Is This Just a Peeing Story?
“Abandon the idea that you are ever going to finish. Lose track of the 400 pages and write just one page for each day, it helps. Then when it gets finished, you are always surprised.”
You might be wondering what this humiliating experience has to do with creativity. I’ve had a lot of years to reminisce. I've learned that this race is symbolic of the way I tend to approach other goals. Rather than focusing on the current task, I let the end game psyche me out.
For example, I hate bookkeeping, taxes in particular. I tend to fear the entire mountain of self-employment receipts rather than focus on one software entry at a time. I start envisioning the IRS and audits and financial ruin. I melt down and make myself too exhausted to do anything productive.
This happens with my creative goals as well. I'm in the process of revising a novel that I really hope gets published, and yes, doubt has crept in. How will I ever get an agent? A publisher? Am I wasting my time? How am I ever going to write anything I’m really proud of? I panic and start to loose control of my emotions and my thoughts. I begin having ideas like:
Who am I to think I could ever get a book published? Maybe I should give up and leave the real writing to people who know what they're doing. I’m a joke. A failure. What an idiot.
And this is the point where I have to stop myself and remember why I'm doing this in the first place. What do I really want? I want to be a writer. I have written a book. It's just not published yet. These things happen one edit, one revision, one connection at a time. Besides, I’m writing this blog right now. That’s another step toward the goal.
The Peeing Lesson
When we focus too intently on the finish line and forget the end goal, we become fearful, discouraged, and paralyzed in our work. When we lose sight of the end goal, we can miss the mark completely. We might even pee our pants.
Although my 5k was years ago, I remind myself of this story because I still struggle with focusing on what I haven’t done rather than what I can actually do right now.
The good news: the finish line will be there when I get there. The journey is scary and unpredictable, but I want to stay in the race. And in the future, I’d like to avoid peeing my pants whenever possible.
Benjamin & Heidi, January 3, 2004, long before the notorious 5k incident
The Peeing Epilogue:
I did finish the longest 5k in history. I did my best to keep my urine-coated pants from contaminating our car. I have not completed a race since and have no pending marathons on my calendar. And in case you were wondering, I am married to the most gracious man on the planet. That, or he’s a little crazy like me. Maybe both. Go enjoy the journey, Heidi Beth
TELL ME:
What’s one of your most embarrassing stories, particularly a peeing one?
BOHEMIAN CHALLENGE:
What’s a goal you’re trying to accomplish? Take time to break it down into microscopic steps and celebrate each one you check off the list. Share it with me here and I will be happy to cheer you on.
*This story was previously published on heidibethsadler.com, revised for your reading enhancement.