| I find myself thinking about this a bit lately. When I was in high school I was a middle distance runner.
I trained a bit harder than I should have. I was lucky to never have a significant injury that made me unable to run for more than a couple days, but there were definitely times when I felt burnt out, and I didn't compete after high school. Burnout, stress fractures and other roadblocks were very common among kids who ran more than eight miles a day, but many of us had this attitude that we had to take risks and push ourselves. I think we felt pressured because college wasn't far off, and we really only had one shot to go D1. I'd troll a running forum called Dyestat a lot and there was this goon a grade above me who'd post questions every day about how he should structure his training (e.g. "is increasing 10% per week too much? How long should my long run be?"). The questions weren't bad questions, but everyone found them absurd because he'd run 10, maybe 15 miles in a week. How about spend time actually training instead of talking about training? Because he took his boundaries so seriously, he increased his training load at a snail's pace -- I don't think he ran a 60 mile week before college. He improved consistently every year, never got injured, and never burned out. He went D2 (D1 > D3 > D2) and killed it. Now at 26 he runs 100+ mile weeks at 6:00 pace and tools on kids at the turkey trot every year. I check his twitter from time to time and it's clear he loves the sport as much as I did when I started. I like to think that the difference was that he had a long-term goal that wasn't attached to some instantaneous outcome. He wanted to be able to push himself for the rest of his life, even if it meant waiting till past his prime to be any good. I think in general if you make a change that's sustainable for the rest of your life, you win. |
Ultimately he won.
http://www.thelawproject.com.au/blog/scott-adams-on-systems-...