The Critic...

“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.”

-Theodore Roosevelt

But, Mr. Roosevelt, what would you say if the critic and the man in the arena were one and the same?

Hi, my name is Stacey, and I am my own worst critic. I beat myself up and belittle myself. I compare myself to others, even though they probably don’t even notice. I project my own insecurities, and cast a shadow of doubt on myself.

Last week, I realized just how bad things have become when I missed my morning workout. Rather than thinking, “OK, I woke up with stomach cramps and could not physically have run. I will try again later.” I thought, “What a failure. You were supposed to run 5 miles. Stop making excuses.” It ate at me all day. That day, it all ended fine because I did make it out, and had a great run. But the whole story repeats itself over and over. I still look at my weekend run as a failure, even though I got my miles in, because I couldn’t get it all Saturday, and then couldn’t get the full 12 Sunday. I slept this morning instead of strength training, and even though I can do it tonight, I’m sitting at work berating myself for not just getting up and getting it done.

I attack myself when runs are hard, blame myself when I haven’t gotten enough sleep, give in when I can’t move a weight I wanted. I see Tweeters complain about how a slow run for them was an 8 minute pace and mentally respond with disgust and disbelief because my averages are in the 10-11 minute range depending on distance. My stepsister decided to start running after I did, and I agonize over every result, wondering why she’s faster, why she’s better.

I’m sure most of us have seen The Oatmeal’s fantastic “Blerch” comic. I’m pretty sure I have the Blerch and the Jerk following me. One tells me to give in, to be lazy, to eat that cheat food, and the other one berates me endlessly after I listen to the first.

The Jerk isn’t always a bad thing, but it IS a bad thing when he gets out of control. The Jerk can come in handy sometimes… a mean little Critic following me around, punching the Blerch in the face is a good thing.

But the Critic, the Jerk, has become too strong recently. No one else is comparing my results. In fact, most people are super supportive, even when results aren’t that impressive. Only I use that comparison to beat myself up. My competition should only be against myself. And, truly, failures walk hand-in-hand with triumph. If I have never failed, how could I feel as great of joy when I succeed? “who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming…”

It is hard to accept, hard to learn, that coming up short, whether it’s an aborted long run, a run that wasn’t as fast as you hoped, a weight that simply won’t move, coming up short is part of the battle. It is what makes the eventual victory so sweet. The failures and struggles give power to the victory, to the success, to the PR. 

Maybe this is the mantra, the way to silence the Critic, the Jerk, to remind him over and over that there is no effort without error and shortcoming. If it were all easy, if there weren’t delays and failures, errors and shortcomings, there would be no victory, and no reason to keep going.

“who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.”

Dare. Dare greatly. Take on those challenges. Silence the Critic by setting goals for yourself, not for others. If I compare myself to others and then decide it isn’t worth it because I feel I’ll come up short, if I take one perceived failure and decide it’s not worth fighting for success, if I refuse to dare - then I belong with those cold and timid souls. If I do not dare, I do not deserve victory, and I do not deserve to call it defeat. When that voice, that Jerk, that Critic, pops up in your head, remind him that you are daring. That you may have failed today, yesterday, and the day before, but you are striving, you are daring greatly, and you’d rather have the face marred by dust and sweat and blood than sit aside and believe in critics.

Workout of the Day: will be 4 rounds: 20 kettlebell swings (35lbs), 10 shoulder presses - each arm (20 lbs), 10 lunges (40 lbs)

Song of the Day: "Pompeii" - Bastille