Combating Burnout
How do we overcome the feeling of being burned out?
The wax begins to wither away, transitioning from solid to liquid. The flame grows smaller as its light dims by the second. Suddenly, without warning, the flame is gone. Nothing remains but a smoking wick, and a small pool of scented sludge.
Now, imagine the flame is any one thing in your life. Something that you appreciate deeply. The wax, the drive within you to continue on, the love and appreciation you have for said “thing.”
Examples include, but are not limited to: your career, a hobby, a side hustle, a relationship, your fitness — things along these lines.
Burnout is a real problem — one that many have or will encounter within their lifetime. Be it with their job, an outside activity/hobby, or a relationship. Something they love so dearly, something that serves such vital importance in their life — out the window. Any desire to continue is gone, without a trace. How do we explain this?
Better yet, can we avoid it?
What is Burnout, Exactly?
Technically speaking, burnout is defined as follows:
“a prolonged response to chronic emotional and interpersonal stressors on the job.”
Historically, it is made up of three primary components:
- Exhaustion
- Cynicism
- Professional Inefficiency
All three are commonly present in one individual’s burnout, but certainly not mutually exclusive. Meaning that a professionally efficient worker could find him or herself physically and mentally exhausted, therefore burnt out.
Some of the greatest minds of all time have stepped away from their respective trade while at the top of their game, the world’s greatest athletes retiring while at their peak level of performance.
In reality, the great majority of research to date has been on job-related burnout specifically, though its characteristics most certainly carry over to other areas of life.
I’ve Been There
Over the years, I’ve many times experienced burnout. Fully immersed in something one day, indifferent to it the next. What causes this? Is it my fault?
Not entirely.
In one of my very first blog posts, I discussed my exit from the sport of wrestling, and how it affected my life thereafter. Completely spent, I resorted to living a relatively sedentary lifestyle for some time. Any desire to compete, to be physically fit — to set and pursue goals was out the window.
My experience with burnout in regards to wrestling specifically is a two-parter… (maybe three?)
Let’s go with three.
All of which are systematically different, yet influential in my understanding of this concept all the same. The first of these came while I was still in high school. Around the age of 16, in what was my twelfth year involved in the sport, I simply found myself disinterested, or, interested in other things. I went through a brief “gym-rat” phase, which is incredibly peculiar considering my otherwise distaste for the “weight room culture.” The second instance occurred after my high school career came to a close. For one reason or another at the time, I was done — wanting no part of continuing the sport at the next level. I’d done my time. … Upon further consideration, I ultimately decided upon returning to the sport at the collegiate level. This period of time rekindled the figurative “flame,” shining as bright as it had in years, before eventually coming to a halt once again.
In my life currently, I work as a high school wrestling coach, with a love for the sport of wrestling unlike any I’ve had in my lifetime. A greater appreciation than ever before.
How did I manage to “burnout” on three separate occasions, yet still find my way back? Is it possible to follow such a path in your career and personal life?
Absolutely.
The Three
Through my experience(s) with burnout from wrestling, I’ve gained an understanding of the different ways in which it can manifest in your life, and how to combat it, which I’ve now carried over into my adult life.
As mentioned previously, the three instances are quite different, stemming from separate antecedents. The first of which I chalk up to exhaustion. I had competed and trained for the better part of my childhood — pair that with the emotions and hormone imbalance most certainly present in my 16 year-old-body, and you’ve got a recipe for a feeling of exhaustion, or, better yet, boredom.
As stated in a journal included in the 2001 Annual Review of Psychology, “Exhaustion is not something that is simply experienced — rather, it prompts actions to distance oneself emotionally and cognitively from one’s work..” (Maslach, 2001)
My next burnout was likely due to component #3, inefficacy. I hadn’t reached the goals that I’d set for myself. Hadn’t accomplished all that I’d hoped — therefore internally indifferent to the idea of continuing on. In some ways, I wasn’t “worthy” of the sport, or so I thought. An inability to reach the level of success that I had set out to achieve ultimately led to an immediate feeling of coldness toward the sport.
However, it didn’t take long to “move on.” I was no longer sad. I had no animosity toward the sport itself, or the people/places I associated with it. This served as a period in my life, albeit not incredibly long, where I was blissfully independent from the sport of wrestling.
Most recently, amidst my second year of college, a newfound love for the sport was in full swing, though it didn’t take long for it to, once again, fade away. This instance is unique, with many moving parts. The untimely passing of my father set in motion a whirlwind of events which, in hindsight, led to a fairly immense level of confusion, uncertainty, and ultimately exhaustion.
This exhaustion was different, though. It presented itself in a way that I’d never experienced. I wasn’t bored. I wasn’t interested in anything else. I was just, for lack of better terminology, fully spent.
I had reached a point in life where I couldn’t give my all to the sport of wrestling any longer. Mentally and physically, I was compromised. At the fault of what, exactly? It’s hard to pinpoint.
Nevertheless, moving forward I shut myself off from the sport entirely. For the better part of a year, I didn’t watch it, didn’t talk about it — did my very best not to think about it. Subconsciously, I knew that a piece of me was officially gone. The perplexing piece of the puzzle however is that it was by choice that I walked away — why was I so upset? Why was this response so much different than my previous burnout?
Simply put, because no two things are the same in the known universe, never mind two similar instances of physical and psychological burnout — everything is different, all at once.
As I have progressed into adulthood, with ample time to reflect on these experiences, I’ve developed the ability to extract the good from each. From which, I believe to have a relatively sound understanding of how to identify burnout in sport itself which lends itself to my career as a coach, along with combating it in the workplace and in my venture(s) as a runner.
Briefly, let’s take a deeper look.
Burnout, Make a Change, Get Back To It
The primary source from which burnout arrives, at least in my life currently, is monotony. More simply; becoming sick and tired of going through the motions, boredom as a result of no variation.
So, what to do?
Spice it up, of course.
Let's use my running as an example. Training for something like an ultra marathon is a daunting task in and of itself, particularly when thought of as one singular thing — one training block, one long race. This vernacular is sure to create an image of something entirely unattainable.
The power lies in chunking things up, which I’ve touched on previously, but will delve into here.
Broad example:
Let’s say that my training phase for my upcoming race, the Booneville Backroads 100mile, is roughly six months long (which it is.) Of these six months, I will chunk it up into three separate training blocks. Each of which holds its own challenges and expectations. Instead of a six-month-long journey, it’s now broken into two-month sections. Each two-month piece is then dissected even further, down to the week. This allows me to make adjustments on the fly, to best suit my physical and mental needs at any given time.
In the past, with much less knowledge of training, nutrition, and rehabilitation methods, I went about things much differently, causing burnout along the way. Burnout stemming from, as I’m sure you can likely guess, monotony.
As it turns out, running 2.0 miles at an 8:30min/mile pace seven days a week gets old after a while.
Who would’ve guessed it?
In response to burnout, I would go in spurts where I was interested in pushing my limits with regard to distance, be it a daily, weekly or monthly goal. When boredom set in, I’d switch things up, shifting my focus toward speed (relatively speaking.) After a period of time, my mind would direct me toward strength-focused training, or hill work. This cycle continued for some time, and to the surprise of myself, and others with much more “expertise” than me, it was working.
If it isn’t broken, don’t fix it, am I right?
As such, I have carried over the general basis of what was once a complete and utter shot in the dark. A training plan built on the fly by some bulky wrestler who had never run further than 3 miles at a time, with lofty aspirations of running an ultra marathon.
Train, feel boredom setting in, make a change, repeat.
But, What if I Can’t Make a Change?
Sure you can.
Maybe you are burned out in your career, and you can’t afford to change jobs entirely. Understandably so, not many can afford to take such a risk. But, what can you change? What is it that has caused the burnout itself? Why did you take this career path in the first place? Ask yourself these questions in order to move forward.
Is it boredom? Exhaustion? Feeling emotionally unattached or distanced?
Whatever it may be, a small change is all it may take to alter your perception of the situation entirely. Add something new to your morning routine. Work to discover a new hobby to pick up, a new “why” to pursue.
When the burnout sets in, when you feel stuck, or you feel helpless, it’s important to understand that you’re a prisoner to nothing but your own mind. Your own decisions.
Your burnout doesn’t mean that your life is wrecked, it simply means that some sort of change must be made, in order to feel new again.
As the flame dims, and the wax melts, don’t resort to throwing out the candle entirely — but use one flame to light another. Another candle filled with brand new wax, a full supply of desire and passion, of love and of appreciation.
Burnout is not a means to an end, but rather a segway into a new beginning.
Resources:
Maslach, C., Schaufeli, W. B., & Leiter, M. P. (2001). Job burnout. Annual review of psychology, 52(1), 397–422