Goals I Didn’t Even Know I Had

Tonight, I started to write this post on my long-running, but mostly neglected, blog that I started back in college and it didn’t feel right. I don’t usually like to write anything publicly unless I feel like I have something to say–oh, how things have changed!–but I felt like I was saying it in the wrong place. This is a blog about goals. And one of my first goals I didn’t even know I had will be to blog twice a month (I almost said once a week but then felt like it was overly ambitious and changed my mind). I will give myself deadlines and hopefully get back into the rhythm of writing since I’ll soon be going back to school soon to get my Master’s Degree in exactly that–creative writing.

Today, though, I wanted to write about some things I’ve accomplished recently and look at them critically. If someone told me two years ago that, in the space of two months, I’d compete in a regional pole competition and complete a 5K mud run, I probably would’ve laughed. And laughed and laughed and laughed.

Two years ago, I was struggling to get into a regular yoga practice. I was picky about my teachers (no one too mystical, no one too hardcore), I had a pair of expensive running shoes that had barely seen the pavement, and I was still carrying around the extra twenty pounds I’d stumbled into during my study abroad. I am not (and probably never will be) a gym rat. I’ve always had this really broad goal to be in better shape, without any corporeal idea of what that meant.

In college, I used the rec center fairly often and really only spent much time there because a lot of their machines have small televisions on them to distract me from how much I dislike the gym. I took my iPod, too, for when I got too far from the TVs. At the time, my favorite thing to do was alternate between watching the National Geographic and Food channels while doing intervals on the elliptical. It was particularly satisfying when someone would be making an especially decadent looking cake and I could think “I’m going to eat that later and not gain weight, because I’ve been at the gym for two hours” or when the camera would pan over African grasslands and I could visualize myself running through them. I realize how strange this is.

But when my schedule changed or I’d been sick, I had a hard time going back and getting into a routine because I never really enjoyed it all that much in the first place. So my senior year I decided to take a swing dancing class and a running class. Swing was a total blast and the running class was helpful because I’d never really learned good form. Then I sprained an ankle for probably the 4th time and couldn’t finish either. I was pretty heartbroken, but I learned something about myself. I have better follow through when there’s some peer pressure. Some small, but vocal, part of me fears judgment and I find it hard to just walk out of a class.

Cue yoga classes. Yoga was cheap and the Sunday morning class I joined was low pressure, but required enough focus that it shut my brain off for the hour, which was something I’d never really thought possible. I found a yoga buddy and did that semi-consistently for a few years. We found the Couch-to-5K app and I started running, again semi-consistently. And then I found a Groupon for pole fitness classes. I’m the kind of person who will try anything at least once.


While out at a teacher/friend’s birthday dinner a few nights ago, some of the girls and I were talking about the allure of pole. Some people commented that it was the sense of accomplishment they felt when they nailed something after a few classes. Another girl and I agreed that it was spin pole that had us totally hooked. It felt like flying!

I recalled that during my first few weeks of lessons I was constantly bandaging ice packs to my elbows because they always felt strained, a consequence of my hypermobility and absolute lack of upper body strength. It was so hard. And that’s what kept me going back. I’d never encountered anything this challenging. Most things came fairly naturally to me and this didn’t. My stubborn streak got the best of me until I fell in love with the sport (many bruises later).

For about two years now I’ve spent about three hours a week at least at the pole studio, learning poses, tricks, floorwork, and routines. I’ve gotten stronger than I ever thought possible and last year was promoted to the advanced level at my studio after a year, one of my biggest achievements in a long time. My teacher/friend convinced me to compete at my first pole competition, which took place this March (I’ll write a whole other blog post about this later). After that, I agreed to sign up for a 5K mud run with my pole friends (that will be blog post #3, I think), which took place this weekend. At both events, I said to myself (and occasionally others) “I’m so unprepared; I can’t believe I’m doing this right now,” and thought (quietly to myself) “I can’t believe I let anyone talk me into this.” By the end of those events I was making plans for the future and thinking “The next time I do this, I have some very specific ideas about what I want to be able to accomplish first.”

Spoiler alert: I came in last place at my pole competition and I walked most of the 5K. But that’s not really what matters. What matters is that I did it, and if I hadn’t given into my friends when they encouraged me to do this, I don’t know that I would’ve ever attempted either of these things and I wouldn’t know where to start. Both experiences were humbling and scary and exhilarating. I have my gripes about the 5K and the competition but I am so glad that I’ve done them. I accomplished goals I didn’t even know that I had and set some new ones for the future.

Once upon a time, I couldn’t run even a few blocks without stopping and I certainly wouldn’t have been strong enough to attempt most of the obstacles, much less finish a 5K mud run. Just a few years ago, I couldn’t climb to the top of the 8-foot pole, let alone perform a 4 minute solo in front of an audience. This last month and half has been a reminder to myself that when you hit the finish line of one goal it’s just the starting line for the next.