I enjoy doling out free (often unsolicited) advice far more than receiving (or acting on) it. One suggestion I routinely toss around is to encourage people to volunteer at local running events, even if they have no interest in the sport of running. Aside from the good karma, spectating at endurance events, especially longer ones like marathons, isn’t just fun. It can be very instructive, almost a crash course in human psychology.
Don’t bother watching the elite athletes at the front of the pack—they are simply running machines, and will disappear from your field of vision in a flash. The real show is in the middle and back of the pack.
You’ll notice a pattern soon: big smiles and triumphant fist-pumps at the start of the race as excitement and energy courses through their veins. About halfway through, though, you’ll notice tired, abject faces as the runners realize how much further they have to go. And then, plot twist: the same people who hobbled through the race suddenly start to sprint, as though possessed by the spirit of Usain Bolt, when they see the finish line. I know and understand this pattern intimately; it was my signature move at almost every marathon I ran.
Scientists refer to the sudden burst of energy at the end as the Goal-Gradient Effect. In Endurance sports, this phenomenon is also known as the End-spurt or the Finish-line effect. This is why, when athletes are fatigued, the perception of proximity to the finish triggers a surge of effort.
The Goal Gradient Effect is why shoppers with coffee shop punch cards tend to visit more often when they only need a couple of trips to earn their free beverage. It is why developers install progress bars on educational apps like Duolingo to keep us going.
The visibility of an end line can be highly motivating. Psychologists who have studied the phenomenon find that seeing there is an end gives meaning to any discomfort we may be experiencing, which in turn makes us believe that the seemingly impossible task we are on is now doable.
But what happens when there is no end line in sight?
How are we to find the motivation and the will to keep going when our journey seems interminable? Think about those with chronic illness or disability, or their long-term caregivers, or those stuck in the cycle of generational poverty. How do they find the strength and motivation to keep going when they are not assured of a clear resolution to their distress and concerns?
For centuries, the wisest people in the world have grappled with this fundamental question: how to function when life’s struggles seem endless? The existence of this question, in a way, explains the continued existence of organized religion. While religion does little to alleviate current struggles, it offers an exit ramp by promising a better afterlife—Heaven for Abrahamic religions, Reincarnation and Karma for Eastern spiritual traditions like Hinduism and Buddhism.
In short, religion is a coping mechanism. Great, for those who believe.
That said, while the gods are getting our heavenly plush beds and endless poolside martinis ready, what can we mere mortals do here on earth to deal with uncertainty? I don’t pretend to have an answer, but based on personal and observed experiences, I have a few suggestions (cue my comment earlier about giving free advice).
Stop asking yourself “Why me?” No one in the history of humanity has successfully answered that question. What makes you think you will?
Stop wishing things were different: This is a game I often engage in, a sort of escapism to an imagined future fantasy where I control gravity, the orbit, who inhabits my world, and how everyone would serve me. Suffice it to say, that is never happening—this life or in the afterlife. Worse, those little mental detours make my perfectly decent reality look suddenly drab by comparison. I mean, I can’t even control my thoughts, forget gravity!
Let it go: On my run this morning, I stepped off the sidewalk—twice—to let a gentleman walking in the opposite direction pass. We were both doing loops. On the third loop, I fully expected him to step aside. Instead, he continued strolling down the center of the sidewalk like he owned it. I felt resentment bubble up… and then I decided to just let it go. It was so trivial.
Like any other muscle, letting go needs training. We practice on the small stuff so that maybe, one day, we can release the bigger things too.
Appreciate the moments of sunshine, however rare they may be: Even the sickest cancer patient finds moments to smile. Nothing is ever completely black or white, so we need to stop painting our experiences with broad brushstrokes. Our job is to let the slivers of light in.
Use Me-Time prudently: I debated about adding this because what I’m about to say may be controversial. I believe many of us already have a “me-first” attitude, especially here in the Western World, and despite what the thousands of self-help articles say, we do prioritize ourselves. But we probably end up using our me-time less than judiciously. I certainly do. So, instead of dumb-scrolling through social media, I'm now trying to use my me-time to step out into nature whenever possible. That certainly helps me with perspective.
So, there you have it. Until I’m able to run my own universe, I’ll stick to these five coping mechanisms when faced with uncomfortable situations that seem to drag on forever. I hope you’re able to do the same.