Motivating my motivation

Getting out of bed to run this morning probably sounded like ripping velcro.  It took deep motivation to get my feet from beneath the warm covers and onto the cold floor.  But I did it. And I had a decent 4.5-mile run.

At about mile three, I starting thinking about what motivates me.  Now, you have to understand, I’ve struggled with motivation for years and have read dozens of books on it.  What makes me tick is a complicated thing. I am driven by a deep sense of destiny with a healthy dose of insecurity.  It’s a volatile cocktail that has propelled me forward  in my life with a series of erratic stops and starts.  By mile four, I had figured out that my motivation has gone through three distinct stages.

1. External motivation: This is where I’ve spent most of my life.  I fed off what other people thought. My parents, my family, my wife and my bosses. I can tell you for a fact, when you’re getting love from people you respect, you feel like you can conquer the world. It’s a powerful drug. And I used it to soar to great heights. But what’s dangerous about it is when people you respect throw you under the bus, it’s devastating. So when it happened to me, I quickly had to find something else to keep me going. So I moved on to…

2. Internal motivation: Think Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand. Self love (get your mind out the gutter.) Looking out for #1. Honestly, I think it’s OK to an extent. It’s the fire that gets me out of bed on the cold mornings. It’s the expectations that I can be more than I am that drives me to better. And it’s the high standards I set for my life. But it has limitations. If there is nothing bigger than yourself, what happens when you have a setback?  What happens when you lose faith in yourself and your work?  You’re left on the side of road with a flat.

3. Something bigger than yourself: This is the third stage and where I am most days.  I realize that my talent is a borrowed gift and I need to use it like the blessing it is.  I need to use my abilities to help others. And if I do, then I’ll be helped in return.  I still use the first two forms of motivation — I want to do a good job for my boss for example and I have high self-standards. But the fire inside me is lit by something bigger than me. It’s the spare tire that keeps me going when the other two motivators go flat.

By the end of the run, I figured out this simple truth. What pushes me isn’t what others think or my own self image. It’s the fact that simply being alive is a gift. I’m motivated to make my hard work be my thank you note.

And don’t worry, I don’t normally think about such deep things when I run. I’ll probably just think about bacon and the plot Walking Dead tomorrow.