Expectations and Reflections (New Year, Football, and Growth)
New Year’s Day is meant to bring growth, change, and reflection. I have clients who talk about the idea of resolutions, and I always pivot to long-term goals or even short-term goals. If we focus on a goal, then we can break that down into steps to achieve that and track our progress using SMART goals. Too often, we are not specific enough in our goals, or we create ones that are not feasible to attain within a time constraint, which means we will feel a sense of failure. I recall in college going to t he gym on campus and working out. I felt like I was working out hard because I always left tired, hungry, sore, and sweaty. While I may have put in decent effort, I lacked consistency, and I anticipated one day pulling my shirt up to see washboard abs. What I did not know then was that blasting several arm exercises, maybe one chest exercise, and doing a little cardio would not yield immediate results, nor would it eliminate enough body fat on me to reveal any hint of the abdominal muscles. More than that, crushing an all-you-can-eat dining hall after a shower, loading up on pizza slices, burgers, and assorted other delicious and calorically dense, but nutrient-sparse foods would preserve the ample protection around my abs. Many years later, over a decade in fact, when I did start truly going to the gym, I learned all these lessons and had a plan. Initially, my goal was as simple as being healthier, but that entailed regular workouts (six days a week) as well as paying attention to how I ate and how much I ate, which was very revealing. Doing that, having a plan and consistency allowed me to make significant progress, and I was able to refine my goals along the way because of that. I was a New Year’s Gym member, but here I am, over a decade later, and I now grapple with NOT moving my body some days when I am tired or feeling under the weather because movement has become a source of medicine for me.
More than figuring out goals and finding a path to get there, I think reevaluating what things matter most to us, and how much we let them impact us when we have no actual control, is another piece of the puzzle. Last night. I watched my team lose a game they probably should have won, and it ended their season. It was heartbreaking to end like that, both because for me this season had felt somehow like I was still connected to my dad, but also because I know how hard those kids and the coaches worked to get there. I had never cared about college football as a kid. My first year on campus, I missed getting season tickets for football because I had an 8 am class, and people would have to camp out to get tickets. I started sort of watching games on weekends when I went home to do laundry, but it wasn’t until a game my freshman year that I took my dad to that I fell in love with the sport. It was our bowl game, and it fell on New Year’s Eve, and our team looked pretty beaten at halftime. Somehow, we rallied and won the game. It was thrilling, and we both left the game hoarse and wrung-out, physically and emotionally. I have never looked back. However, for a while there, when my team would lose, I would be sullen for most of the rest of the day. I might feel the need to retreat or just keep to myself, but I was never someone who broke stuff. As I grew older and after graduation, I started to feel more like a parent than a peer to the athletes. I forgave their mistakes on and off the field, and found many of my fellow fanbase to be, frankly, shitty people. I appreciate the ties I have to these kids who play. We are forever linked by having attended the same university. Many of them won’t go on to achieve in the sports world, but some will. What I want most is for them to create memories for themselves and to build their future. Ideally, that would also include a national championship or two, but I spent years supporting a team outside of championship contention. Hell, my hometown baseball team was consistently one of the worst until they suddenly were perennially in the running for the playoffs. I guess for me, it comes down to loyalty. I don’t commit in half-measures, but I also learn not stake my joy on the performance of other people. There is much in this world beyond my control. Much of it has more stakes than a college football game. But if I allow all of that to weigh on me all the time, I would be unable to feel joy or meet my own needs, so I have to evaluate how I let things influence my life. If I can’t directly change the thing, then I have to decide what my relationship with it is. If that relationship is harmful, I need to leave it, the same way any abusive relationship should be exited.
In the end, creating space and time for us to reflect on the things in our lives, and what our relationship to them is important. The changes we want and need are things we must be in control of, and if they are, then we have to figure out the steps to get there. Those steps tell us if a goal is realistic and also allow us to continue to check in with our own progress. That can be hard, especially if we often seek external validation. This needs to be an inward pursuit, even if it has results that will be externally visible. We have to be our own cheerleaders and our own accountability partners, checking in with ourselves, giving ourselves grace when we slip or fail, but also getting back out there and doing it again, and celebrating the victories along the way. So often, we just set an expectation to accomplish and achieve, and when we do, we hurry on to the next thing, rather than allowing ourselves to celebrate and appreciate. You will burn out if you do not give yourself the time and ability to recognize and celebrate what you do well and right, which will create the spiral that traps you and prevents you from ever reaching the bigger goals you have.