23; Prisoner to the Now
For being twenty-three years old, and apparently getting into the crux of my “Jordan-Year” (as well as possibly my mid-twenties?), it’s been a pretty tough start. Or, at least — that’s how I’m framing it in my head.
I think everything psychologists and philosophers say about ourselves being our own worst enemies — I think there’s some truth there. We willingly decide to be prisoners to the NOW; the moment in which we currently find our emotions, behaviors, and thoughts viciously tied tight. It’s so gripping! Just imagine how you feel when you lace your shoes up for a run, finally sit down with the right headspace to write that story, or commit to that relationship. That immediate rush — that emotional response to a stimulus that brings us pleasure — it’s quite a challenge for anyone, or anything, to snap us out of it.
Not always, I should say, but quite, quite often, we find ourselves enslaved to our respective now’s in our lives.
We have this really strange tendency to pour incredulous amounts of focus into what’s going on right now, instead of thinking about what’s happened to get to the NOW, what will happen AFTER that now, or what the repercussions truly are of that now.
It’s bizarre when you actually think through this process — you’d think we’d understand the value in patience and ideas like the ‘sum of all parts,’ rather than immediacy and instant gratification, but everyone — from pre-pubescent teenagers to even our old ass parents — everyone occasionally struggles with this.
Oftentimes, the answers to those questions — what became before your NOW, what’s coming after — are much more important and meaningful than the now itself — even if your now is a Ph.D. dissertation defense, an athletic competition, or an interview with the job of your dreams.
In all of those scenarios, without the steps you took to get there, or the things you’ll keep doing afterward — consistency, in a sense — those steps are far greater than that moment itself. The sum of all parts isn’t equal but instead GREATER than the whole; the journey is far more worthwhile than the destination; life is found in the little things, not the glamorous and loud. I say all of this — but it’s quite easy to lose sight of this notion.
It’s far, far too easy to get lost down the rabbit hole of the present moment seeming like the most important thing in the world. I think many athletes, dedicated students, and anyone who is pushing to be a master of a craft go through this battle — it’s a tough conundrum when one confuses the compulsion of the now with compassion. Be careful if you’re traversing that tightrope! I actually wrote something that might be able to help you walk that line a bit…
I say all of this to lay the groundwork for something I’m personally experiencing right now. I’d like to think that I’ve been pretty outspoken and vulnerable about my journey thus far — both behind a screen and in person — and this is yet another rung in the ladder that I’m trying to figure out how to reach, then grab, and then fling myself over to the next one.
Despite a healthy amount of adversity treating me so far in life, like a traumatic bike crash, a seemingly never-ending battle with an eating disorder, and a rather unhealthy amount of anxiety and depression to accompany it all — every time a new challenge pops up, it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Dramatic? Yes. How I’m wired? Unfortunately, yes.
I think it’s healthy at times. When I get a cold, it immediately becomes my mission to pound liquids, nourish my body with antioxidants and vitamin C, and recover as fast as possible. Anyone who knows me knows that a cold makes me an absolute shithole to deal with. Sorry, everyone.
That’s a small but explanatory example of how I problem-solve and create solutions as they arise. The positives are that it becomes a personal vendetta to figure out a dilemma and that my focus and passion for that particular part of my life increases thrice-fold. The negatives are the positives when you take into account that there is A LOT more going on in my life than that problem in isolation. That’s where things can get a little, well, frisky.
I’m dealing with a pretty challenging current NOW of finding out that I’m, once again, at the back of the line in a part of my life I probably (definitely) place too much value on: athletics. For the past four-or-so years, I’ve taken my relationship with athletics pretty damn seriously, and sure, it’s wavered and had its particularly splendid and certainly awful moments, but for the most part, it’s been an upward battle. I’ve seen myself ascend to be one of the better young triathletes in the nation, become a breakout runner in the Fort Collins area, and even win both a half-marathon and marathon in a year. Specifically, my last year of running has been pretty special, so when I got the chance to walk on for Colorado State University — yeah? Uh, of course?! Where do I sign, Coach?
I was as pumped as ever for the opportunity to run at the collegiate level and see where my fitness could get me. I think there were a lot of things with my training up to starting cross-country this fall that justified my ability to run at this level — like a 2:24 marathon, or running 31–32 minute 10k splits off-the-bike in Olympic distance triathlons. There was promise there, promise in the long-course aerobic transferring to shorter, more anaerobic efforts.
I think there still is potential at the collegiate level, and I think there’s much more than just my previous fitness that got me here. Remember how I said we tend to focus a bit too much on the NOW? Yeah….there’s that again.
I’ve had a somewhat rough start to the year with CSU. After some stellar workouts leading into the season in the summer, as well as early on in August, I’ve started running flat, searching for answers, and mentally becoming more, and more….tired. I felt my body start to struggle with paces and workouts, portraying most vividly as sicknesses, weird body aches and tweaks, and disappointing races and workouts. I’ve run a 16-minute 5k in our season opener, a 26:48 8k at Roy Griak, and a 26:26 8k at the Nuttycombe Invitational, finishing perhaps the lowest I’ve ever finished in a race. Humbling! I had a somewhat bounce-back race at our Mountain West Conference Championship (25:47) but still didn’t contribute at all to our team score or help out in what was honestly quite a lackluster, excruciatingly tough race for our men’s squad. (Although, our ladies rocked it — click here for more on their domination!)
It’s a gut punch, for sure. Going from feeling unstoppable and lethal on racecourses across the country to completely ravaged and fragile in a span of half a year has not been easy on my confidence. Naturally, it has me questioning my methods, questioning what worked for me in triathlon versus what I’m doing now, questioning my body and how it looks — should I be doing more? How about less? Should I weigh xxx much if xxx weighs that much? …all of this, and questioning a host of other things. It’s a tough predicament to find yourself in when you’ve reached a point in life that requires you to change the process that’s made you good at that thing to a process that will make you great. That takes trust, failure, and blind confidence when sometimes we have little to be confident in.
Because I’m obsessed with the NOW of my running at the moment, I feel like I’m letting my friends down, both in and out of running circles. I feel like I’m letting myself down per the opportunity I have. I feel like I’m losing a mental battle against myself, and that I don’t know the side of myself that’s winning. I feel a little, well, anti-ben right now, and that’s a pretty yucky feeling to have.
I’m so dialed in on the running in my life that I’m forgetting the incredible parts of my life that got me here. I destroyed my body and rebuilt myself in two-years-time to become a marathon winner, a triathlete, a graduate master’s student, a Fulbright Scholar, and a fucking badass, above all else, if I’m being honest. I want to say that I’m the poster child for putting my mind to something and making it happen — and that’s a thought I think I’ve let slip out the backend of my mind the last few months. In a sport where fitness is trumped by the strongest mind that breaks last, I’ve forgotten just how strong I can be in that regard, putting way too much emphasis on the times I’ve run in workouts, previous races, etc. I’m engrossed with the now when I really need to be fantasizing about the guy who is the king of taking on what’s next, and how he can methodically attack that. That’s a founding piece of what’s made me the person I am — that resilience and confidence to do the impossible — and it too is a huge part of all of us.
Right now, it’s honestly just a struggle to find that guy — my former self who could seemingly be a strategic assassin of life’s most difficult battles. I know he’s in there, but finding out how to wake him up is proving to be quite a difficult endeavor. I’m beat up, I’m depressed, I’m angry with who I am, but I’m hanging on to the excitement of what I can become. Hanging on to the excitement of what’s next.
Hanging on for dear life.
Looking back at what happened before now and what will happen after it. I’ve been twenty-three for less than two months, so whether or not Michael Jordan miraculously revives my athletic ability, I’ve got some time to figure it out, and, god-forbid, figure out my affixation with running dominating my personality. The good news is I’m a fighter — and know I’ve got so much left to give.
I made a vow with myself two years ago when I crashed my bike that I still carry to this day — when I looked down at my broken body and the trail of blood all over my bike, my hands, and the road, during a quiet, death-ensuing moment at the Poudre Canyon, I remember thinking about how sad I was that I hadn’t done the things I wanted to do yet, met the people I wanted to meet yet, or been the man I wanted to become. That’s a feeling very few people experience in life, and not one I’d advise many to seek.
But I felt it. And I never want to feel it again.
Somehow, I made it out of that canyon that day. And, somehow, I made it here today. I’m a journalist. A National Park Service writer. A social media influencer. A teacher. A boyfriend. A baker. A musician. A runner. A triathlete. A friend!
Maybe people are right when they say we can be our own worst enemies. I’m not sure. I am sure that I’m Ben, and I’m still working on who Ben is right now, and who he’ll become, but, I think Ben can be someone who is also his biggest advocate, and biggest friend. Working on what’s next.
