Tag: Fear

New beginnings

On Monday, I start a new job and a new career. I’m a bit excited, and quite scared. (R is trés excited, not scared at all)

The fears

The first fear is from all the documentation, processing, and related formal requirements. That’s a foreground worry, as I’m working on it at the moment. It’s also the simplest, since if it becomes an issue, it’ll be placed right up in front of me to deal with.

The big worry is the background anxiety from the transition to this new career.
This is my first job in this field. At 41 years old. I’m starting from the bottom rung (good), but at a big, established organisation (scary). They have experienced people, processes, and the thing I’ll work on will reach out to millions of people (trés scary). I am not sure if I’m qualified for the work they expect (I was surprised to even get the first interview call). I’ve never worked on something at this scale. I haven’t worked on anything that complex. I haven’t worked in this industry at all. The likelihood of my completely bombing is fairly high. At the first job. In a new career. At 41. There may not be another restart option.

I love to work from home at my own times. I’m a strong advocate for remote working. In this case, however, I miss not being in the same shared office. Looking at everyone’s faces directly would have provided a good gauge of how I’m doing. Working remotely, online, removes that direct, immediate feedback mechanism. I’m dependent on other people to be kind enough to provide quick, direct and honest feedback. (And hopefully, to work with me at helping me improve.)

Another worry is that this career switch means I am permanently trading in the old career. There won’t be any going back. It’s a different ladder now. A ladder, as R says, I enjoy more. But also one that doesn’t go anywhere as high or as fast as the previous ones. The ceiling is strong and near in this career. In the previous one, sky was the limit (given willingness to get burnt). The change means saying goodbye to many things. And saying hello to occasional, depressing bouts of ‘what if‘.

The joy

There’s also joy. I’m going to be doing something that I enjoy doing. I’m going to be part of a team, and have an opportunity to make some stable connections outside of home and running. I’m going to be working at an organisation that I like, on a thing that I really like. Unless I bomb early and completely, I may even be able to make some things better. And, if I survive, I’ll get to learn. A lot. In areas that interest me. That learning, along with having stable team mates, is probably my biggest incentive. (R has a different one.)

Which is worse—fear or complacency?

Manchester City lost to Lyon by not playing the way they usually play. Guardiola changed the formation, changed players’ positions, and refused to make the changes even after seeing his side struggle.

Manchester United lost to Sevilla by playing the same way they have often played and lost. They were making the same mistakes that they’ve made in some of the games I’ve seen them lose—midfielders (Pogba, but also Bruno) don’t track back well enough, they defend after taking lead even when the defence has been leaky under pressure.

Which is worse—abandoning your winning instincts and then having a brain freeze, or refusing to learn the lessons and making the same mistakes again?

I refuse to even ponder over that Champions League semifinal—the scoreline says it all. The performance on the field was way more shameful than even the scoreline.

Continue reading Which is worse—fear or complacency?

Afraid of…

I want to go for a run. I’m dressed up and warmed up for the run.

I’ve been dilly-dallying and delaying the run; for almost two hours now.

I’m afraid of the run for some reason. Maybe it’s the bright sun. It gives the appearance of it being hot. I gate running in hot weather.

Maybe it’s the chilly breeze. The temperature is in low teens. I haven’t run in low teens since spring (and yesterday).

Maybe it’s the distance. Even though it’s just marginally more than yesterday.

Maybe it’s not having a backup. I can’t call R to pick me up. Even though I haven’t done that in years. Nor am I taking my phone.

Maybe it’s the fear of dehydration. Even though I’ve drunk almost two litres of water so far today.

Maybe it’s the stiff back. Even though it never hurts while running, specially once the body warms up.

Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe I should just go for the run.

Conditioning, fear, and Garmin step target

I couldn’t run much over the summer due to an injury I’ve been carrying since spring (and done nothing about).

So, to make up for the lost miles, I ended up doing a long step goal streak on my Garmin. I started the streak with a step target of 8731.

With the default setting, Garmin automatically adjusts the step target up/down based on how you did the previous day. So, just achieving the target increases the goal only by a few dozen steps. Go overboard, and exceed the target by a few thousand steps, and the next days goal will jump by a few hundred steps.

As expected, very quickly, I started planning so that I didn’t exceed the goal by much. It couldn’t be managed on many days – Monday track runs, Thursday club runs, and weekend chores meant those days usually ended anywhere from 50% higher to even 2x. Still, I tried on the days I could.

I ended the streak [^1], 74 days later, with a step target of 15,223.

Now that we’re back from holiday, and I’m starting to give running another go, I still wanted to keep up the steps. But, tired of being scared of an ever increasing target, I decided to go with a static target of 12,000 steps a day.

It’s a good, high-ish step goal, yet not one that I’d have to really slog on non-run days to achieve like those 14000+ targets were. 

On 5 of 6 days since starting this new streak, I’ve ended up with 3000+ steps over target. Success.

Also, a problem. 

While the Garmin watch has been configured to keep the target static, my head has not.

Over the long streak period this summer, my brain got conditioned to expecting a higher step goal of I exceeded the target by a lot. So, everyday, once the days steps start heading north of 13-14K, I start feeling mild, subconscious panic. 

The conscious knows that the goal won’t change, but the subconscious has been trained to be afraid of exceeding it by much.

It’s pain from overtraining. Of my brain. In response to a stimuli that doesn’t represent a threat anymore.

Conditioning. Fear. Garmin step target. Buggers all!

We listened to the man because he had…

We listened to the man because he had something to tell us, and us alone. Not how to play baseball, though he did that better than anyone. Not how to win, though winning was wonderful. Not even how to sacrifice. He was teaching us something far more important: how to cope with the two greatest enemies of a well-lived life, fear and failure.

To make the lesson stick, he made sure we encountered enough of both. I never could have explained at the time what he had done for me, but I felt it in my bones all the same. When I came home one day during my senior year and found the letter saying that, somewhat improbably, I had been admitted to Princeton University, I ran right back to school to tell Coach Fitz.

Then I grew up.

– Coach Fitz’s Management Theory