Small commitments build big shiny goals

This blog is on the brink of becoming the same as every other blog I have ever written.

I was in my twenties when Sex and the City box sets were on every IKEA Billy bookcase in every rented flat in London.Hells, I even bought a MacBook (though every computer I’d had before and since was Windows… What freelance musician has that sort of money just to type a few invoices and go on facebook? A foolish twenty-something one who has lost all hope of ever having a pension, that’s who.)

My blogging is like what my fitness was back in 2007, or like Bridget Jones’ frequent re-assertions that she *will* lose a few pounds and, of course, never, EVER, smoke a cigarette again.

It is self-evident that showing up for the majority of sessions on a training plan will get you through a race. We’ve all been there, the race where we have to rein in our ambition because we had a cold, or a niggle, or had a holiday six weeks out when our friend Mr Will Power got on a flight to a different destination.

I don’t know why I expected writing to be any different.

I started with energy, vision, and a clear image in my head of how my blog would gain readers, helping others on their running or swim-bike-running or general fitness journey. And then I faltered, sacking off a typing session because I was tired, I wanted my Netflix and beer, I’d do it at the weekend. I’d do it on my rest day. I’d do it on the day after my rest day because your rest day should be about not thinking about your big hairy goals. I’d do it the day after the day after because an easy 45 min run needs a long bath more than it needs 45 mins in front of a screed. I’ve been in front of a screen all day – GREAT excuse… There were many more. Many, many more. About as many as held me back from really getting into fitness and running and stuff before now, really.

What worked back then? Acknowledging the need, the why, the driver. Having a plan. And entering an event big enough that I had to follow a decent amount of the plan just to survive. Not sure how the last one might work, but I can see the benefit of steps 1) and 2).

1) Why am I doing this? Crucial. It gets you through the dark mornings, the freezing long runs, the rainy interval sessions, the swim sessions when you had to stay longer in the office than you planned. Why write a blog? Let’s pre-process the excuses.

  • There are loads of blogs. Yes, but you have friends who have said they like reading yours (sorry, friends who hate this sh*t).
  • You also have friends who have said they think of you when they run and that you encourage them. This might encourage more people. Like the Lollipop thing: you don’t know whose life you change.
  • Sharing by writing feels authentic. Also, mental health. None of this motivating, fitness-related stuff is easy and you do a hell of a lot of it on my own. Just like those solo 2k swims, writing helps process and move forward. Step AWAY from the overthinking thoughts. Hands off, step back please.

2) Make plan. Do plan. Smile. Repeat. I just need to make this regular. One post a week. However ball-achingly dull I might think it might be to read. Find that rhythm and some good stuff will come out. You can delete duff posts later. If they really are duff. You’re always your own biggest critic.

Also, it’s not possible to enter a blogging race, but I could maybe make the title more publicly goal-oriented so I can add a healthy dose of public shaming if I don’t write a post every week. Claire is doing a triathlon isn’t all that accurate now I’ve done it. Though, Blog-or-it-didn’t-happen, I technicallly haven’t written about the second half of Outlaw Holkham 70.3 yet…


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