Drops In A Bucket

Most of the self-improvement advice I read goes something like this:

“If you want to be good at XXX you have to do XXX every single day.”

(Call it the Seinfeld Srategy or The X Effect or whatever you want, but I’m certain you’ve probably heard it before, too.)

Obviously, that makes a lot of sense. But it’s not an all or nothing proposition. I’ve read about many people working on a goal who became discouraged after they missed a day in the chain. They end up treating that missed day as a failure and falling off the wagon entirely. I’ve been there myself.

For me, it’s running. I try to lift weights and eat well but my big commitment has been to run as often as possible. Since my travel schedule is so unpredictable running has become my best option for exercising when on the road.

Before my trips I try to plan out my travel accordingly: Does the hotel have a gym? (I can use a treadmill in case the weather is unbearable.) Is there a running path nearby? What does my weekly mileage look like and will I have enough time for those runs?

That’s how I’ve approached my travel for years. I land in any given city already thinking about my run. As soon as I get to the hotel I change, stretch, and I’m out the door. Making my runs a priority always makes me feel happy and healthy and ready to give a good performance later that evening.

I’ve run over the Brooklyn Bridge and next to Niagara Falls. I’ve run down the Las Vegas Strip and along the Pacific Ocean. I’ve run trails in Pittsburgh and beaches in Florida, mountains in California and roads in the heartland.

Sometimes I have to run on a treadmill. Sometimes I have to run slower when I’m tired or shorter distances when I don’t have much time to spare. Sometimes my iPod isn’t charged and I run to the sound of my own thoughts. Sometimes I run on a track and sometimes I run around the parking lot of my hotel just to be outside.

It doesn’t matter. I don't understand when someone says their run was “boring” or the treadmill is “horrible”. What a gift it is to be able to move; to have two working legs that bound effortlessly through each stride, pushing against the ground and carrying me forward to each glorious mile. For me, running is a celebration of life. It’s self-expression that lets me say “I’m alive and I get to run.”

When I’m tired from an early flight or several long days of travel in a row, I try to remind myself that I get to run. I repeat the mantra in my head if my morning is particularly challenging.

I get to run.

I wake up as my flight lands and grab my bag from the overhead compartment, sleepily muttering to myself, I get to run.

When I retrieve my luggage at baggage claim I’m thinking about how lucky I am that I get to run.

I turn the key in my rental car, sipping my third cup of coffee. I get to run.

I check into my hotel, change into running clothes, stretch, smile, and head out the door. Finally, I get to run.

I’ve been on a hot streak all year long. I haven’t missed a workout and haven’t missed a mile. I’ve run 5Ks, 10Ks, 10 milers, and even a Half Marathon. Plus, I’ve worked on my speed, hills, and more. I even prioritized stretching when my mileage increased - something that has been a challenge for me in the past. So you can imagine my utter disappointment two and a half weeks ago when I fell down the stairs and dislocated my shoulder.

One of my first thoughts was "Fuck, what about running? I won’t be able to run.”

After the initial shock and pain subsided and I returned home from the ER, I was slightly depressed for a few days. I couldn’t move much and had to stare at the other runners in Chicago from my apartment window. At my doctor’s recommendation I had to skip a race I’d been building up to for 8 weeks.

My streak was broken. I was crushed.

A few days passed and I got my head on straight. I kept up with my physical therapy exercises and started biking at home. Then last week my therapist said I was doing so well that I could go out for a run last weekend. I did - and it was incredible.

I bundled up - it’s already getting brutally cold here in Chicago - and hit one of my favorite loops. I avoided the steps I’ve tripped over before and the curb that caused an ankle sprain last year. I felt sluggish and uncomfortable. I couldn’t help but to constantly think about my shoulder and worry that any given step might dislodge it and send me back to the hospital.

But after a half mile I stopped worrying and my old self took over. I get to run.

Each uncomfortable, plodding step was a reminder that I was back outside, doing my favorite thing. Each bead of sweat fell in slow motion as I ran along the beautiful shore of Lake Michigan. I felt my feet contact the ground and made a point to remember that feeling. One day I won’t get to feel that any more, but now - now I get to feel it, weeks before I thought I’d get to feel that again. And what a glorious feeling!

I’ve run two more times since then and am starting to feel like my old self. There’s a gaping two week hole in my calendar but I don’t care. There are plenty of gaps along the way but I keep lacing up my shoes and hitting the path. Each time I do, I end a string of empty days and start a new streak. And I have way more successful streaks than empty ones.

The truth is the unbroken chain is a noble but ultimately unlikely result. Things happen. Life gets in the way. Mistakes are made. Every once in a while you’re going to forget to do your daily push-ups or be too busy to write your daily word goal. It’s bound to happen sooner or later.

I try to approach it differently. I think of successful days as “Drops In A Bucket”. For every day I accomplish my goal, the bucket gets a little more full. Over time I may miss days or possibly even weeks, but hopefully I’m able to use a majority of my days to keep adding those drops. And when I look back my metaphorical bucket is way more full than when I began.

I love looking back on my year and seeing that I ran 265 out of 365 days or realizing that I accomplished my writing goal on more days than I forgot to write. Those are huge wins. My running and writing buckets are getting full to the brim.

Most advice I read is like those "One Size Fits Most” hats you see in stores. They don’t work for me. I’m a little taller and bigger than the average person and, as much as I wish they were, it inevitably doesn’t work for me.

It’s important to remember that what works for others more than likely might not work the same way for you. So know that when you see that viral TED Talk on productivity or hear about the work habits of insanely successful people, you have to take it with a grain of salt.

Seinfeld was getting paid really well to write every single day. Olympians get to run every day because it’s their job. For the rest of us, we have to make our goals work with our schedules and be content with our individual results. You may wish you were working harder or had more time but always remember that it’s a gift just to be filling our buckets up at all.

---

Other Thoughts:

• I saw “The Irishman” the other night. It was extraordinary but at three-and-a-half hours(!) long I can’t help but wonder if Scorsese’s idea of what cinema should be isn’t suitable for today’s audiences. No one around us had the attention span to make it more than 20 minutes without checking their phones, talking, or going to the restroom. It’s a real shame because the movie was phenomenal.

• Currently Reading: “Digital Minimalism” by Cal Newport

• It has already snowed twice in Chicago! I’m not ready for this…

• Check out this week’s video and be sure to Subscribe to my YouTube Channel:

Priorities

In 2014 I was trying to do too much.

I was struggling to get consistent work so I was taking shows wherever I could. I went to booking conferences, drove overnight to shows, partnered with charities for special events, and more. I even started cold calling potential clients while pretending to be my own manager. I was spreading myself too thin and it showed.

For some reason that year, I decided it would be a wise move to also run the Chicago Marathon. On top of everything else I had going on, I started training for the race.

I made it about two months of training before it became too much. I was too busy trying to make ends meet professionally that I couldn’t devote any time or energy to running. My workouts became a hassle and I gave up.

I still ran the marathon that year but it was a dismal failure. I wasn’t even close to the time I wanted and I hadn’t trained for three months leading up to the big race. It was a disappointing result, but I learned some valuable lessons.

First, I was creating the illusion of being busy. I was updating social media regularly, making YouTube videos, mailing sales postcards, and sending 100-200 emails per day in search of new work. But to what end? My best gigs were not coming from my relentless marketing methods - they were coming from other shows. When people saw what I did they would recommend me for other things. The better my act, the more likely I’d get hired for other things. Everything else was just a silly way to convince myself that I was working really hard.

Second, I realized that there is always time for the things that matter. In my haste to make ends meet and keep busy I had forgotten to prioritize the things that truly made me happy. Cold calling, stamping envelopes, and driving long hours were definitely not those things.

This year I stopped doing all the “busy work” that we’ve been tricked into believing is important. I stopped scheduling social media posts and don’t respond to emails past 5pm or on the weekends. I stopped searching for new clients or potential events and just focused on giving good performances. The funny thing is, I’m busier than ever. Turns out, I didn’t need to be doing all of those other things after all.

I also have been focusing on my exercise more this year. Instead of making it a hassle like I did in 2014, I reframed it as a priority.

It’s only an hour. It's only 7 miles. It’s worth it.

Instead of scrolling twitter or watching the news, I get to do something for me. I get to RUN. Several days a week I set off down the lakefront in Chicago and let my mind wander. When I’m traveling I set an alarm and get up early or use my breaks between events to get my miles in.

I’ve been running for years but this is the first year I’ve truly made it a priority. I’ve been setting little goals for myself all year to keep up with it and now it feels as much a part of my routine as breakfast, lunch, and dinner. (This month alone I’ll log 100+ miles, a huge victory after having a couple injuries only one year ago!)

I guess what I've been thinking about on my runs lately is that life is too short to prioritize the things that don’t matter. Why keep doing something if you don’t enjoy it? And why let something become a hassle when it’s actually one of your favorite things?

Your biggest priority should be filling your time with the stuff you love doing. You don’t need anyone’s permission. You shouldn’t keep putting it off. You need to put yourself first. If not now….when?

I’ve run more this year than any other and I’m happier than I’ve ever been. And, I just signed up for the 2020 Chicago Marathon lottery, but I won’t know until December if I get selected or not. If I do I’m going to make up for my failure back in 2014. And if I don’t I’ll find another marathon somewhere else.

Everyone in life is telling you to devote every spare hour to getting better, working harder, and finding success. I’m telling you the opposite. You don’t need to do anything except to find what makes you happiest and make that your number one priority.

Okay, that’s enough for this week. It’s time for today’s run.

---

Other Thoughts:

• You can see a glimpse of the new show I’m working on at the Chicago Magic Lounge on November 9th and 10th. Get your tickets here.

• What I’m reading right now: “Picnic Comma Lightning” by Laurence Scott

• Check out this week’s video:

Setbacks

I was out for a run last week, counting my steps like always.

One. Two. Three. Four.

It was cold, about to rain, but nice enough to get in a few miles.

Get to that tree. No the next. Catch that guy. You’ve got this.

I rounded the curve next to the golf course in Lincoln Park, just hitting my stride, when I came down on the side of my foot and sharply rolled my ankle.

I winced in pain and collapsed on the side of the path. I’ve rolled my ankle before but this was worse. The run was over and I hobbled a mile back home, my foot throbbing with every step.

Another setback.

See, the past couple of years have been all about getting back on my feet. Custom orthotics, physical therapy, special shoes, and so on.

I’ve been a runner most of my life but a few injuries here and there have left me discouraged and stagnant.

This year was supposed to be different.

But then I rolled my ankle and over the weekend I’d wondered if I might have ruined my chances at getting back to marathon pace this year.

Another freakin’ setback.

I’ve had a lot of setbacks over the course of my career. Both big and little things that made me put stuff on hold or go a different direction.

I’ve had so many setbacks.

I moved to Los Angeles after I graduated and slept on couches for a while. I only had $500 to my name and worked tirelessly to find gigs and get my name out there. I’d take the bus two hours to a show then back again several days a week, just to afford my tiny room and a few groceries to get by. After a year, I had made progress with gigs and gotten better - but I was still broke.

Our first year living in Chicago was miserable. My wife and I spent all of our savings just to afford our first apartment. We maxed out a credit card just so I could travel to gigs. I even got in a car wreck and totaled our car. It was rough.

I self-represented myself for a few years, convinced I would meet an agent who would want to work with me. And I did! An agency offered me a spot and promised me big things. Two years later, I had no gigs to show for it and the agency went bankrupt. I was back where I started.

I’ve had so many attempts at weekly shows in Chicago. (Including my current show MIND READER running right now in Lincoln Park.) This will be my seventh year doing a long-running show in the city. I’ve had venues close in the middle of a run, producers not hold up their end of the bargain, and shows have to close due to unforeseen circumstances. It often felt like the shows would come to a screeching halt, without any warning.

So many setbacks.

But you know what’s great?

Looking back I don’t view any of those moments as “setbacks” because every one of them ended up leading to something better.

Failing in L.A. didn’t mean giving up. It gave me the focus I needed to know how I could make this a success. I realized I didn’t want to sleep on couches forever but that I had what it takes to get gigs and be successful. I just knew it would take time. So I took a step back to reassess, get better, and make a plan.

The first year in Chicago might have been a disaster but it led to a year-long job doing my show at Disney World. When I totaled the car, we made a stupid decision to put the insurance money towards a new camera. My wife taught herself to take photos so we could promote the show. It worked. And now she’s opening her own photography studio in Chicago.

Having a failed experience with an agent made me realize to never rely on someone else. I had a fantasy in my mind that an agent meant I had “made it” and would suddenly be successful. But that’s simply not true. If anything, getting an agent just means you have to work even harder, only on different things. I found out that no one can work as hard on my behalf as I can. I’ll get back to you if that ever changes.

And my experiments with weekly shows has culminated in a current run right now. Every run has gotten better. Every performance was been an education. This year will be my longest run yet and hopefully we’ll keep it going for a while this time.

And as for my ankle…it’s luckily not a fracture. Just a sprain. My doctor tells me I’ll be running again by the end of the month. It wasn’t nearly as bad as it could have been. You’d better believe I’m going to conquer the Chicago Marathon again this year.

Every single moment of disappointment has led to something better. Sometimes the better moment happened within a week. Sometimes I didn’t realize it for years. But after I got through the initial phase of being “incredibly bummed out” I got over it and made the most of it. And that has always meant that I was better off than when I started.

Another setback…so that means something great is on the way.

Being Bad

I get my best ideas when I’m running.

For the first couple miles…nothing. It takes me a while to find my groove. So I count my steps and listen to the sound of Lake Michigan crashing against the path.

And I run farther.

I watch the other runners and imagine what their morning has been like. We’re out here together, but we keep to ourselves. That’s how we like it.

And I keep going.

Then, a breakthrough. My music fades away. Everything is a blur. I’m running, but my mind is elsewhere. 

Now I’m working.

I’m mentally rehearsing or writing my next Thursday Thoughts. I’m memorizing a list or dreaming up new bits for the show. I’m more creative than I’ve ever been.

I don’t look at my phone on a run. E-mail and Twitter can wait. I turn on Do Not Disturb and nothing gets in the way.

I have to run far away from my condo to get in the right mind set. I need to leave the dull pounding of construction and traffic behind so I can free my mind. If nothing else, I need an escape from those Washington Post notification alerts, each more scary than the last, that warn of the impending deterioration of the very foundation of modern American democracy.

So I run.

Or at least I used to.

But sometime last year I woke up and I couldn’t walk. I could barely stand. It was all I could do to get moving, let alone head to the airport and fly to my next show.

I had suffered an extreme injury in both feet and I had to stop running altogether. As a result, my daily routine changed dramatically. I had to learn to work differently. It was rough.

My physical therapist broke the news to me: “Your feet aren’t really built for running.” He promised me we could change that but that it would take a long time.

He wasn’t lying.

I’ve been trying to get back out there off and on all year long. Sometimes it feels good, but most of the time it’s agonizing. I’m still in pain and my new orthotics aren’t quite right. And even worse, I lost all my progress. I’m a horrible runner now.

I miss the open air and the silent camaraderie of my fellow runners. I miss the moment when I stop counting my steps and start feeling creative.

I miss running.

In the past few days I’ve noticed some slight progress. Slowly I’m feeling more positive about my training again. Will this be the breakthrough I’ve been waiting for?

I hate being bad at something. Especially something I know I was decent at once before. But I’m learning to let go of my expectations and enjoy the process. I’m starting over but this time I’m able to approach it with more experience than I did before. I’m doing it the right way this time.

It occurred to me this week that to have a career in a creative field you must be able to be bad at many things. At least for a while.

When I was starting out onstage I had no mentor or guidebook. I just knew I wanted to be a performer. So I copied other performers, hoping I’d find my own voice somewhere in the process. 

I stole their jokes and their style and wore it like a loose glove. Eventually I dropped the jokes that didn’t fit me and made changes to the ones that did. I stopped trying to be someone else and started accentuating the things I’m good at. I was constantly aware of what was unique to me and what wasn’t.

I still am.

But slowly, my imitation has turned to emulation. But it took years of struggle to get there. I had to give myself permission to question and fail and rediscover and progress on my own terms.

And that’s what I’m trying to do with my running now. As hard as it is, I know that getting good starts with being bad.