Numbers

205.9

I’m a financial analyst by vocation, so numbers are a big part of my life.   As a result, I find that I look for quantification of activities probably more than most people. It can be a problem, actually.  

The reason is that I rarely embark on any endeavors that don’t involve numbers in some meaningful way.  I don’t want to start lifting weights unless there is some numeric goal attached, like number of pull-ups, or maximum weight on a bench press.  I don’t want to just ‘lose weight’ (that number is my present weight) – I want to go from the number I am now to a goal weight, or a goal loss of pounds.  Those number might actually be meaningless, but I know that they are better than I can do now, even if I don’t know if it’s really attainable.  A target of 160 pounds is better than I am now, but I doubt that’s reachable while staying attached to all my limbs. 

26:01

There I go again – that was my time on this mornings 5K (a Turkey trot in my town). As I often do, I had multiple quantitative objectives for this race: a goal time (27:00), an expected time (29:00) and a minimal acceptable time (31:00).  All of these were just numbers, and should not have determined my enjoyment of the race, or the fun I had getting ready for it. But those concepts aren’t quantifiable, can’t really be measured, and therefore take second chair to the clear delineations of time and distance.  I think this is actually a problem most runners have, but I get to deal with it in my personal and my professional lives.  

70.3

And there’s another one.  I would like to run a half-Ironman distance triathlon next year.  I want to know the satisfaction of having done that disatance through swim, bike and run.  But again, it’s quantifiable, as will the distances of all of my training sessions.  Time is less important here, but the distances are fixed, and each is a hurdle I will need to get across.  

45

One more number that defines me, at least for now.  I’m not getting any younger, and my body is really trying to tell me this.  Actually, it’s saying a lot of things, including that I’m carrying extra weight, I’m getting older, and slower, and that in some facets of my life, my best years are behind me.  

The numbers are getting harder, more relentless, and becoming more of an obstacle.  They may have already been an obstacle for a long time – shifting my focus from areas of my life which are more subjective and less goal-oriented.  As a ‘closer-to-type-A’ personality, I find fluffy goals of ‘have more fun’ or ‘be more relaxed’ as too general, too airy. After all, how will I know if I ever achieve those goals?  There won’t come a time when I’ll say that I’ve had enough fun, or that I’ve achieved enlightenment through relaxation.  But the days are coming when the numbers will become unattainable, and I’ll lose the (perhaps illusory) sense of control that the numbers provide – both in telling me where I am, as well as where I’m supposed to be headed.  Until that time, though, there are a few numeric hurdles I have yet to conquer.