Random Goal, Group Reward
In the back of my mind, I guess I always want to be ready in case I get a chance to go here and do this again anytime soon!
The best creativity grows from restraints, and there’s nothing more restraining than a global pandemic for curbing large athletic goals. Which is fine, because I’m happy tackling small athletic goals, and doing ten pull-ups this summer was one of the most fun goals I’ve worked towards in a long time.
But in the meantime, being here and doing this is perfectly perfect. And a few pull-ups too.
I can’t take credit for the original idea for this one, as it came from my friend Tracy. She told me a story once at the end of a bike ride, as we were passing the pull-up bar station at the bottom of the trail (a very handy relic of the 80s fitness craze). I’m sure I’ve embellished the story in my mind, but the basic premise was that when she was in graduate school and didn’t have much extra spending money, she wanted to get stronger and also coveted high-end smoothies. She told herself that she would treat herself to a fancy, expensive smoothie from the good smoothie place in her town when she achieved ten pull-ups in a row. She trained all summer to do it, and I honestly can’t even remember if she ended up getting it (she must have?!), but I just remember thinking that was so funny and honest and such a perfect snapshot of what this amazing badass scientist and athlete was like at that time. It brought me back to a simpler time when pocket money was saved and scrounged for smoothies, and pull-ups were priorities.
Also, I thought it was kind of a brilliant idea. So, I blurted out one night at dinner to my husband and daughters at the beginning of last summer that if Mom works her way up to doing ten pull-ups by the end of the summer, we could all have milkshakes. Notice Mom raised the stakes a bit from smoothies. I also didn’t really think ten pull-ups was very attainable, but figured that milkshakes at some point during the summer was pretty realistic, so either way we would win. At the time I made the announcement I could get about four pull-ups total on a good day, and that was with maximum, arm-shaking, face-twisting effort. By the following afternoon, after the three year old had asked me at least twenty times if I had done ten pull-ups yet, I was regretting my announcement.
The journey is the reward. (and the milkshakes)
After a month, though, I had only made it to six. Each day I went running, my older daughter asked, “Mom, did you run past the pull-up bars today?” If I said yes, she asked how many I did. If my numbers had gone up, she offered genuine encouragement. If I was at a plateau, she just nodded matter-of-factly. Her obvious curiosity in my goal, combined with the enthusiastic encouragement toward getting better (because then we could all have milkshakes, duh), and a very accepting and non-judgmental attitude towards any setbacks became the very best kind of coaching, and I found myself trying harder while simultaneously being easy on myself. If I do better today, great! Closer to milkshakes, and I had the excitement of getting to tell the rest of the family that I squeezed out one more that day. And if I had a lackluster day on the bars, no big deal, we could try again next time. It was important that the goal was a challenge, but wasn’t something that mattered (I’m a skier—pullups aren’t really what I need to focus on), and also that the reward was something fun and special but also something we’d all enjoy together. I’m not usually big on using food as rewards but this one seemed different because it was mom who had to work hard, and also it was great for me to think about how to be an example of working hard at something and not getting discouraged when it seemed out of reach.
Kids are great teachers for finding pure forms of motivation.
I hit seven by late July and then I hit a wall. Strangely for competitive me, but thanks to my daughter’s passive mental coaching, I wasn’t bothered. I just kept doing six or seven a few times a week and patiently relaying the results to curious family members. The only truly curious family member was the three year old, but my husband always gamely congratulated any improvements and occasionally after dinner would playfully ask how many pull-ups I was at. In other words, is tonight the night? Nope, not yet. I was touched by my daughter’s interest. Even though it was mainly about the milkshakes, I could pretend that really she was pulling for me. Pun intended?
One day towards the end of August, I stopped at the bars mid-way through my jog as usual, and as I grabbed the bar and began to pull up, things just felt lighter and easier. I reached five no problem. My arms were working on their own, automatically getting me to seven, then eight. The next few didn’t look or sound pretty, but just as I was laughing at my own ridiculous effort, wondering if anyone was watching crazy mom on the pullup bars, my chin suddenly touched the bar and I knew I had made ten. I didn’t even care if anyone was watching, I did a celebratory dance in the woods with the dog. I couldn’t wait to announce it at dinner that night.
Just trying to keep up!
The funny thing is like Tracy’s story, I don’t even remember the milkshakes. I just know that roping in the pure intentions of a child to help achieve one of my own random goals was an incredible motivator, a great way to give us all something to cheer for, and a small accomplishment that was a joy to work towards and celebrate together.
I did it again this summer, only this time I made sure the milkshakes would be ones we would remember. I haven’t been regularly stopping at the bars lately, and am back down to six or seven—it’s been nearly two months since I got the ten—but occasionally I think about those homemade peach milkshakes (using the easiest homemade soft serve ice cream recipe ever!), and it makes me excited to see what random new goal I can come up with next for us all to work towards.
Doesn’t get any better!
