A Personal Battle with Grit
Recently, I found myself in a meeting where Angela Duckworth, author of the New York Times Best-Seller Grit, supplied a 35-minute keynote address. At the of the conclusion of the presentation, I felt confident in my understanding of Angela’s message, and that I must certainly own the traits of a gritty individual.
So, when Angela asked the members of the meeting to complete her Grit Scorecard (a straightforward quiz designed to assess an individual’s ability to pursue a singularly important goal with passion and perseverance) I jumped at the opportunity.
After all, I thought, I’m gritty. I’ll pass this test with flying colors.
Boy was I wrong.
When I got my score, I had one thought:
Shit…
I practically failed the Grit Scorecard.
Grit was something I thought I not only had, but had in SPADES!
Something I admired not only in myself, but in others as well.
Yet, this test eviscerated my perceived grittiness.
Dammit.
To say I was disappointed with my result is an understatement, and I immediately reviewed the test.
During that review, two particular questions hit me as serious WTFs:
- “I often set a goal but later choose to pursue a different one” to which I answered, Very much like me.
- “I finish whatever I begin” to which I answered, Not like me at all.
Was I really a man incapable of accomplishing his goals? A guy who didn’t know how to finish something once it’s started?
I had self-identified as such, but I wondered if it was really true?
Fast forward a few weeks, and I’m in Phoenix, Arizona getting ready for a Genius Network event.
Because I’m there a day early and have some free time, I decide to hike Camelback Mountain, a difficult trek that I’ve done before, but never against a clock.
Time-constraints (a morning WebEx call, and an afternoon meeting) meant I would only have four hours to complete the journey, so I measure my pace, water, and snacks to account for that length of time.
Four hours would be tough — definitely at the upper-limits of my ability — and I really didn’t know if I would make it to the summit or not, even though that was my mental goal. Although failing to meet my goal would be disappointing, I knew I would be OK with it so long as the “failing” was due to the hike/time being outside my ability as opposed to being outside my will.
So, I start walking, not even Ubering from the resort I’m staying at. I just put one foot in front of the other, heading in the direction of Camelback.
Eventually, I’m off the road and at the base of this mountain (it really is a mountain — it’s no place to go for a stroll and take in the views.) heading uphill as fast as my New Jersey feet can carry me.
Coming to Arizona from the east coast in the autumn is a shock to the system — the heat, the arid climate, and the elevation change are no joke. My lungs are burning, my legs are aching, and sweat is pouring down my face.
And as I’m struggling up this mighty desert mountain, I notice there are people literally running up and down the trail past me. (This is no different than my previous experience on Camelback, when other hikers — including a woman with a baby in-tow — continually overtook me).
As that young mother flew by me, it would have been incredibly easy to get discouraged.
Easy for me to say, “I tried”, before packing it in, turning around, and going back to the resort for my meeting.
But that’s not what happened.
I realized that life is a single-player game, and the single player game is where happiness finds its roots.
This hike wasn’t a competition with my fellow hikers, and comparing myself to their progress would only lead to a place of failure. This hike was a single player game. There was no gap to close and therefore no reason to make excuses like “they’re younger” or “they do this everyday”. The only person I need to compare myself to is me, because my challenges come from the inside.
I’m not here to push my limits against other people, I said to myself. I’m here to push my limits against myself and in doing so, see if I want to take those limits to new heights.
To elevate my ceiling and make myself something more.
And you know what?
Rather than comparing myself to everyone flying by me, I just kept moving. Kept putting one foot in front of the other until I hit that summit.
The experience of scaling Camelback for the second time — of measuring myself, not against others, but against myself — reminded me of a book I recently read by Steven Kotler titled The Rise of Superman.
In particular, the experience brought me back to this passage:
“Over time, [Maslow] began studying the behavior of other exemplars of outstanding human performance…[he] was looking for common traits and common circumstances, wanting to explain why these folks could attain such unbelievable heights, while so many others continued to flounder. High achievers, he came to see, were intrinsically motivated. They were deeply committed to testing limits and stretching potential…”
Hitting that summit, I realized I actually enjoyed Ms. Duckworth’s talk, and I actually believe in her thesis.
But I also realized my interpretation of her Grit Scorecard was all wrong.
I DO usually finish whatever I begin.
I DO NOT often set a goal and then later chose to pursue a different one.
On those rare occasions I quit on something — be it a book, a workout routine, or an investment opportunity — I do so because I understand the goal isn’t to “win”. The goal isn’t to be the best. The goal isn’t to finish the book, to get a six-pack (although that would be nice), or make the investment a ten bagger.
If I pick up a book and it’s terrible, why keep reading?
If an exercise program doesn’t yield results I’m comfortable with, and I’ve given it a fair shake, why keep going?
If it’s clear an investment isn’t going to get off the ground the way I thought it would, why keep trying to force it up?
The point isn’t to win by finishing the wrong race.
The point is to extract value — knowledge or entertainment in the case of a book, fitness in the case of a workout routine, and ROI in the case of an investment.
If the book, or the workout, or the investment isn’t giving me what I want any more, why keep going with it?
So, do I lack Grit? I don’t think so.
I’m just unwilling to give anything (or anyone) more time than it’s worth.
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