The Early Bird Gets the Mimosa

I already know tomorrow’s Harvest Moon Hustle will be a fun race for several reasons. Night running is my jam. An ice cold beer awaits me at the finish line. And, I’ve triple-checked the race guide for important details. Because I tend to learn life’s lessons the hard way.

Last race I joined, I didn’t read the fine print.

This was my face in April at 7:30 p.m. the night before I was set to run in an “Early Bird 10K Race.”

In this moment, it dawned on me that in order to arrive at the starting gate at 6:45 a.m. I’d have to wake up by 5:00 a.m. sharp, eat, and drive 45 miles down the road. I am NOT a morning person. Months earlier I registered for the race, then trained in the afternoons and evenings. But I had missed one obvious detail.

The reason the race was called Early Bird was because people wake up at a totally unrealistic hour to attend.

Even worse, after setting out my clothes, food, and shoes, I picked up the race packet and read the parking details. It was only then I noticed these words:

Imagine my horror. I hadn’t trained for a 10 MILE race!

I’d barely trained for a 10K, which is just over 6 miles. While it was super tempting to put away my gear and back out of the race, I also knew it would be my only Spring running event. Between an April debut book launch, May graduations, and my daughter’s June wedding, Spring was pretty chaotic around here.

I faced one of those moments where I had to decide how badly I wanted something, and how much suffering I was willing to endure to get it.

I’m sure you’ve faced a similar decision before. There’s no clear right or wrong answer. You just choose one path and stick with it. I chose to go for it.

I decided to think of the race as two 5-mile runs. I didn’t try to break any records. I just wanted to avoid being carted off in an ambulance. After 5 miles I felt pretty good, but forced myself to stop, rest, and eat a granola bar. Then, I ran a second 5 miles. And you know what? I didn’t die.

 Similar to my running mistake, I dreamed of publishing a book for almost as long as I can remember. However, I never really paid attention to the fine print. I just wanted to write a book. The first one took me more than four years of writing, re-writing, and self-doubt. Little did I know the gazillion other tasks that awaited me as a published author.

What can you learn from my mistakes? This year, besides the benefits of reading the fine print, I’ve also learned to prioritize my time to reach a goal, and to break down big projects into smaller chunks.

Publishing Death by Dissertation checked an important item off my bucket list. Since then I’ve finished book two—Dead Week (coming in November)— and will soon publish a children’s picture book called Never Mind with my sister, the illustrator.

No matter how much learning and preparation you do, until you lace up the shoes and run the race, you don’t really know what you’ll face out there.

Even if I meet unexpected bumps in the path, I won’t give up because I know I can do hard things. Doing hard things takes faith and a bit of recklessness. What’s the worst that can happen? You miss the deadline, take longer to reach the goal, or you have to walk part of the way. So what?

At least you got off the couch and moved in a direction.

Break your next big project into small increments, and before you know it, you’ll be crossing the finish line, too. And I can promise you, to the finisher goes the celebratory mimosa!!

This is an updated and revised version of a guest post that originally appeared in June, 2019 here.