"You should always be rooting for the people you know. Not only because you may need their support tomorrow, but also because it feels good to celebrate something.
Celebration can rescue your day—even if it is someone else's victory. Envy will ruin your day—even if you're actually winning."
This quote plopped into my email inbox via James Clear’s newsletter, urging me to put together this piece I’ve been procrastinating. Maybe that isn’t the right word. Busy. I’ve been busy. But when you’re able to notice your busyness and snap yourself out of it for a moment, an hour, or a day…that’s the perfect time to celebrate.
Last year, I set out with two large endurance goals, neither particularly earth-shattering on their own, but the effort required if I was to successfully accomplish both - 1,500 miles running and 1,500 miles cycling - was going to be massive.
The thing about success is that you can’t feel it until the thing is over, whereas failure can strike at any time. As I’ve covered before, barely into the second half of the year, a joyful run turned disastrous with one misstep, and that was pretty much that for one of my two goals.
A handy dandy chart that I posted on our fridge tells much of the story if you zoom in…
By the time of my ankle roll, I wasn’t exactly “on pace” to hit my running miles, but the upward-turning training plan that I was on would have gotten me there. The more interesting part of this chart to me, looking back, is that by the first of July I had put in just 281 miles on the bike.
I wasn’t gonna get there.
It seems I was destined (mostly by the first six months of complacency) to only accomplish one of these goals. The space and time provided by being unable to run, as well as the motivation to keep moving SOMEHOW, allowed for the miles to turn over on the bike.
There were legitimate reasons for this: it was a bit of a lingering winter if I remember. My running plan had me out there more frequently than ever before, which didn’t leave a ton of free days, especially if I had kept ramping up to 40, 50+ mile weeks.
It was perhaps too lofty a combination of goals. This isn’t new ground for me. I tend to overimagine and underdeliver. The value of this is that I’ve truly become friendly with failure. When it inevitably arrives, I am able to notice and be honest about it without getting down.
But taking things in stride might not ALWAYS be best practice, particularly when it comes to success.
While the larger point of setting goals might simply be to push oneself toward a process of improvement, I feel I’m losing a lot of the benefit if I don’t celebrate the wins. If I instead shrug and say “Look, I did that. What’s next?”
Because 1,500 miles on a bicycle is a-fucking lot. I’ve never tracked my yearly total before, but it has to be more than double any previous mark. Within that was my first century ride (100 miles) There were also 10- to 15-mile commutes three times per week for the final couple months, when the temps were tolerable but not joyous. I troubleshot a new bike that will allow for grander adventures and found bonus mindfulness in the maintenance of each of my steeds.
So this is my way of saying that I’m proud of myself. I set out to do two things. I notice that I didn’t do one and celebrate that I finished the other (with two days to spare, no less).
And guess what? There was a lot more in the tank.
So let’s overimagine once more. It’s a fresh year, blooming with potential successes. What can I see myself celebrating if I put my mind to it? I’m got some short-term climbing objectives. A lot of daily practices I must return to, which might be the most crucial of all. And maybe it’s just because the sun is shining through the windows right now on Feb. 13, but I’m ready to aim right past my failures.
2,000 miles on two wheels
1,500 miles of deliberate foot travel (hiking/running)
There’s a significant project brewing that would do a lot towards these goals, but I’m unwilling to put that out into the world just yet. For now, it’s base-building season again. Framing the 1,500 as all foot travel will allow me to adjust and avoid burnout if needed. My ankle is still not quite up for an intense training block, though it’s getting there.
I’m not trying to be some influencer who wants you to share your goals, as well. But let me tell you, the celebrating feels pretty good, and failure is a helluva teacher. Why not give it a rip?
Weekly Choss
I’ve mentioned before that Anton Krupicka is an athlete I look up to, and now he has joined the ranks of substackers. His first move has been documenting an epic three-week bike tour with interspersed peak scrambling that he knocked out a few years back. It would be most people’s trip of a lifetime, and I’m glad to read his expanded thoughts. I can’t think of a cooler way to live.
This article about a serial abuser who existed and was even celebrated in the California climbing community for decades is really fucked up and a tough read. But it’s extremely well-reported and also super important to bring attention to. A lot of people in this story failed for a long time, but he was just found guilty today, so I suppose that’s a good step a bit late.
Idk if I’ve ever shared Chris Gorney’s content here before, but he is another athlete living the dream, IMO. I’ve always wanted to spend some considerable time exploring Red Rock Canyon. To be able to do that daily in your own backyard is a privilege that he is not wasting…
I thought about turning this story into a whole post of its own, but I feel I’ve harped on this subject enough, so I’ll just share it here. My dog, Charlie, has always been pretty good at taking pills, and we give him glucosamine tablets every day, usually when I leave the house. Occasionally he refuses to take it from me and drops it on the floor until I crouch down and give him some pets, then he’ll pick it up and swallow. But there never seemed much rhyme nor reason when he would do this. The other day, I was running late with a bunch of stuff to do/grab before I got out the door. I was frantically bouncing around, making noise, not being very mindful, and when it got to Chuck’s pill, he adamantly refused. He knew that what I needed in that moment was to slow down. He wasn’t stressed or anxious himself. He simply knew that I wasn’t going to leave until he took that pill, and he wasn’t going to take it until took a breath and noticed what I was doing. Still surprising me at 11 years old.
Keep giving attention to the things that matter people.