Thursday, September 15, 2011

The Quitting Zone


Every single time I start, I enter the quitting zone. The first steps are the hardest, pounding a signal from my heals to my head… "Stop. Go back.  You'll never make it.  You can do it tomorrow. Next time. Next week. Whenever."  The urge to stop, the desire to quit, the mental trickery demanding that I give up, stop running and start walking, just turn around and go home… these are the self-taunts I must endure for the the first half mile of nearly every run I undertake.  I call that half mile the quitting zone.  As I train myself, slowly and surely, to be able to run farther and faster, I am also training myself to be able to plow through the quitting zone.  In fact, that is the hardest part, learning to defeat the quitting zone.

See Jeff Run. Run Jeff, Run

I never thought I would think of myself as a runner.  I've always struggled with my weight, complained about my knees, found excuses to quit before I even dared to enter the quitting zone. Then, inspired by my oldest son, I started to walk three or four miles regularly… and then began alternating walking and running, increasing the ratio of running until one day I found I was running the whole distance. Then, little by little, the distance I could run increased.  While my confidence has grown along with the distances I run, I still find myself facing the quitting zone, nearly every day.  Intellectually, I know I can make it past that half mile mark. I do it all the time, and then continue going for three, four, five, even seven miles beyond. Still, those first steps… that first half mile… the infamous quitting zone is a bitch every time.

Life's A Bitch Too...

I won't be the first nor the last to use running as a metaphor for other things in life, but it works (and, after all, what's a metaphor?)  The truth is that the quitting zone is everywhere.  It taunts and challenges us at the beginning of every task, goal and opportunity we face.  It is physics.  It is inertia. It is in our human DNA.  The hardest step toward any objective is usually the first step.  Standing still takes less effort than movement.  Reflection and consideration takes less effort (and feels like it holds less risk) than taking action.  We think, therefore we am.  We think, therefore we pause. We wait.  We procrastinate.  (And of course, when I say "we" I really mean "ME."  I pause. I wait.  I procrastinate.)  But maybe I do so a little less now since I have become "a runner."  Maybe I've become a little bit better at pushing through the quitting zones... and not just the one when I run.

How about you?  How do you bust through your quitting zones?


Photo Credit: © yobidaba - Fotolia.com

10 comments:

Carla Marie Ciampa said...

Thank you for this Jeff. I can relate to the sensation, but I had never given it a name, I had never acknowledged that the self doubt could be human nature. Thank you.

Matthew T. Grant said...

I, too, am quite familiar with the quitting zone, though I never called it that. As corny as it might sound, I find taking a "Just do it" attitude can help you break through. It's not about what comes next or convincing myself of the goal and the value of achieving it. It's more about, in the moment, taking the leap and just doing it. Once you get the ball rolling, as you sort of say, it gains momentum on its own.

Roger Abramson said...

Thank you for the valuable blueprint and specifically your observation about the first half mile.  I'd like to trick myself into running "just for a second" during my walks now that I've built up my strength and stamina by walking frequently.

Seeing yourself as a runner is quite an identity shift.  At what point did your identity change from walker to runner?  My daily walk always seems just a little too short to absorb a podcast, so I frequently turn a corner that takes me an extra mile out of my way.  If I do the same trick again, now I'm walking 3 miles a day.  Eventually I'll get antsy and have to go out "to the store" twice a day.  I end up walking 20 or 30 miles a week just by using these tricks.I can parlay this strategy into more success in more areas.

Erin Feldman said...

I enjoyed your metaphor because I, too, didn't use to be a runner. I now like to run, but I still have some mornings where I don't want to put on the tennis shoes and head out the door. I do it because I'm relatively stubborn. I also know my conscience would bother me the rest of the day. Accountability can help, too. I don't have a running partner at the moment, but I have had one in the past. Having that partner not only keeps me on track, but it also makes me want to try just that much harder (I'm a little competitive, too.).

Anna Palmer said...

This was a good day for me to read this. Thank you. Rain+grey+quittingzone= belch. On off days I feel this way about everything, including simple tasks like cooking dinner. In particular I feel this way post product launch. There is constant buzz and excitement in development mode, but once it is out there in the world my interest wanes, just as the public starts to care. This is a dangerous combo, and where I most poignantly feel the "quitting zone". I made the thing...isn't that enough. Do I really need to hold on to the back of the bike while it practices riding without its training wheels?

sass said...

Thanks Anna.  Glad this post was well timed to help you push past the rain + grey. :-)

sass said...

Thanks Erin, I haven't run with a partner, but I agree about you conscience and feeling bothered all day if you do succumb to the quitting zone and don't run. Stay competitive!

sass said...

Good question Roger. I think I didn't really think of myself as a "runner" until I could consistently run more than a 5k (3.1 miles) as my standard minimum run. Keep on walking.  That's exactly how I got started.

sass said...

Thanks Matthew. There's a reason "Just Do It" has just done it so well and so long for Nike. It is trite, but it is true and there's a lot of weight behind the concept.  Just do it is generally a solid course of action, and attitude.

sass said...

Thanks Carla.  Yes, I think there's a part of our nature that, if we're not being threatened, we lean toward complacency.  Cavemen safe in the cave.  :-)