Being bad at things I used to be good at
And learning to like it
In the summer of 2022 I was training for a half marathon. I’d given myself plenty of time to work my way up to the distance, and by mid-August I was running ten or eleven miles every Sunday, and loving spending all that time outside in the fresh air. I wasn’t fast by any means (I was looking at a 2 hour 45 half-marathon time) - but I was enjoying myself. And then I got covid for the first time, and ended up not going back to running for ages.
At the start of this year I told you how I was loving getting back into it - and then I got sick again. And again. And again. Which leaves me here, approaching the end of November, still just about getting through a 20 minute treadmill run (with thanks to the NHS Couch to 5k app for getting me this far) and printing off another copy of Laura’s Back to Running plan from the start of this year. (Because I have a printer now and I love it - ad, affiliate link).
And, you know what, it feels shit. Much as I have worked to be body-neutral and not to beat myself up for what I can’t do (right this minute), there’s this very real evidence of something I’ve gone backwards at. It’s kind of a similar feeling to when I briefly get my flat looking gorgeously tidy, and then within a few days it’s messy again. I remember what it used to feel like to just go out and run - and, at the moment, it just feels like hard work.
Part of going back to university this autumn was finding out if I could still write an academic essay. Even though I’m writing all the time (obviously, hello!), academia expects a particular type of writing - and, what’s more, I’d be going into the Law School where I expected conventions to be a bit different from the politics department I studied in at undergrad. It turns out that I absolutely can still write an academic essay (I got my first piece of ‘summative’ coursework - i.e., it counts towards my degree - back last week with a Distinction on it and my best UK university score ever!), but I was so worried that I wouldn’t be able to. As if it would be a mark of great personal failure that I’m… not good at a skill I haven’t practiced for 8 years.
Newsflash: it wouldn’t. And - and here’s the kicker - even if it were, it is okay to fail at things.
One of my old workplaces was covered in posters to try and encourage us to think and work in a more ‘agile’ (vom), tech-startup kind of way. One of them was a variation on the image below - ‘failing’, it said, is just a ‘First Attempt In Learning.’
It didn’t work for that particular department - it was full of highly-strung perfectionists and we ‘gold-plated’ absolutely everything we did. We were a small part of a larger organisation that absolutely did not like the idea of things not going exactly to plan. But, you know what, just because it wasn’t true in that environment doesn’t mean it’s never true.
One of the best things about my Master’s programme compared to undergrad (I assume this is indicative of how academia has changed more broadly?) is that we get much more detailed feedback on coursework than I ever remember getting the first time around, and we are expected to make an appointment in the marker’s office hours to go and discuss it. For someone with a nervous disposition like me, this is wonderful - I can read and make sense of the feedback I’ve been given, and then go and sit down and discuss things that I misunderstood, or where I took a suboptimal approach to answering the question.
Coming back to something I’m actually worse at than I used to be - dinghy sailing (yeah, I know - not hugely relatable - stay with me here).
I learnt to sail on summer holidays as a kid - but I hadn’t been in a sailing dinghy for well over a decade before joining the sailing club at uni this autumn. I got absolutely covered in bruises my first time out (going along to squad trials was a bit ambitious - but I had fun regardless!) and it’s definitely not as intuitive as it was when I was 14 and, if not fearless, somewhat less fearful. We’ve also had pretty sub-par winds this autumn, so that makes sailing more challenging in any case.
But - you know what - I am genuinely loving it regardless. I have had afternoons sitting in a dinghy in the sunshine, not going anywhere fast, but just enjoying being outside and on the water.
I’m trying to apply that energy to running too. Sure, it’s not as easy as it used to be, but I am moving my body and listening to great music (oh my gosh, gang, have you listened to the soundtrack of the new Wicked movie yet??), and filling up on dopamine and endorphins.
And that has to be worth something.
Speak soon,
Lily
I keep meaning to get back into running too - it gives you so much freedom