Much is said, written, and pushed about “goals.” That is good, as far as it goes. People and societies advance – at any age – only with goals. But goals alone – without the resolve to work for them – amount to an unread book, unridden bicycle, unworn shoes, of little use. To dream is common; to realize a dream divine.
Years ago, a friend encouraged me to run – just try. I admired epic runners like Roger Bannister who broke the four minute mile, John Landy who once rescued a fallen runner and won the race, Billy Rogers a New England kid who blew the doors off the Boston marathon.
So, I tried. I ran a mile. I hated it. I had a stitch in one side, decided this was not for me. The friend came back. “If you want to be a runner, you have to condition, it hurts. Then, one day, you will find, if you stick with it, you will love it. Give it … two weeks.”
I groaned. Not wanting to be a quitter – another expectation worth re-upping – I said to myself, “Okay, why not, suffer two weeks for the satisfaction of telling him I did it, and not for me.”
So for two weeks, I set an alarm, got up, shuffled a mile, and called it done. The dream of being as happy as Bannister, Landy, or Rogers – tough on the road, tough on myself – was a distant thing, out of mind, my whole focus just surviving those breathless steps to complete one mile.
On the night of the 14th day, a weird thing happened. Headed to bed, glad to be done with something I hated, able to say “I tried” … something happened. My inner ticker, something way deep down, stopped me.
It caught me and asked, “Not setting the alarm?” Silently I said, “No,” and went to bed. Could not sleep. “What the heck?” I rolled over, set the alarm, thought “what’s one day?”
Next morning I ran, not because I had to, but because I weirdly wanted to. I did that the next and next. Soon, I was testing two miles, oddly happy in the accomplishment. I had no speed, legs hurt, but … something was changing. I could feel it.
What was changing was this: I had nursed a crazy vision, the endurance and enlivening contentment of people like Bannister, Landy, Rogers, also Shorter, Prefontaine, and Liddle … They obviously loved running. I had only imagined loving running.
But in just two weeks, something – a tiny brushfire – caught inside me. After two weeks, I felt the flicker of something. I had not the heart to abandon that flicker, to just let it go out.
That little flicker is the feeling you get when you make little steps toward a dream, when you resolve to DO, not just THINK about doing, when you dig, grab the thing that was lying there all along, resolve to lift it, heave it up, and get it in motion – when you resolve to DO it.
By college, the flicker had grown strong, was generating warmth, feeding other needs, making me better, able to take the heat, convert pain, produce things by doing. What I once hated, I now needed. My friend was right.
For 1000 days in a row, snow or sun, I ran – never missed a day, shuffling if sick, doing. Crazy? Maybe. Why? Wanted to see if I could. “Doing” was now firmly lashed to dreaming.
Dreams, goals, whacky ideas were now something different. Having seen “doing” produce an outcome, watching the “doing” multiply, my whole attitude evolved. “Doing” was the key.
Rather than trying to avoid “doing” I looked for excuses to do. The limit became the dream, imagining the goal, not the resolve to do a thing I could imagine. And so it went.
At 20, I ran my first marathon, respectable – not Billy Rogers, but filled with contentment. Then I ran another dozen, in the French Alps, India’s heat, subzero in Maine. The contentment once imagined, now came. For a time life was defined, got its texture, from the daily crunch of shoes on gravel, in early morning light and blackest night.
Running – something I had vehemently not wanted to do – pushed open a giant door. Suddenly, I saw the big picture, knew how to do. So, to dream is fine, but to do is what counts.
In an age of distraction and diffraction, encouraged to live fantasies not by doing but imagining we are doing, one truth will hold. The future does not belong to the weak, but to the bold. It is not the dreamers, but those who lash their dreams to hard work – doing – who own the future.
And the future they own, will be the one they make. Just as the future we own is the one we make, not by imagining what could be – but by seizing the moment and making it so. Most good things take time and to dream is fine – but to rise and fight, gut it out, win the day, feels divine.
Robert Charles is a former Assistant Secretary of State under Colin Powell, former Reagan and Bush 41 White House staffer, attorney, and naval intelligence officer (USNR). He wrote “Narcotics and Terrorism” (2003), “Eagles and Evergreens” (2018), and is National Spokesman2 for AMAC.
Thank you for your article. It moved me. Made me think about how precious life is.
You run because you can but to be a runner you need to practice. Needless to say I don’t run but I walk. It’s good for a 73 year survivor of this thing called life. But my thing is I’m a dreamer. I could probably be a rich man if I had gotten patents jumped through the hoops to protect my inventions, but I didn’t. But I continue to invent and love it. It’s the mind that is the beautiful thing. It’s God given and I use it to give back or make a difference in others lives when the opportunity arrives. You should Try it. I am grateful for every day and have plans on the table for the next page of my life. Thank you.
Another excellent article by my favorite writer Mr. Charles. I never give up on anything and even this Parkinson’s shows me that I can sill do things. I used to run every morning before work in the high desert of CA and I used to get a runners “high” which was so rewarding. I started running because I used to get these horrible migraine headaches and the MD’s told me it had to do not just my hormones but the fact that I worked under so much stress. I tried to run to keep my arteries open all the time in my brain and it worked. Like you Mr. Charles I hated running when I first started but learned to love it later on. Thank you again for writing an article which hits the nail on the head.
Carol
In preparing for battle I have always found that plans are useless, but planning is indispensable
Gen Ike
It’s good to have plans and goals but working your way to these goals you often find a lot of options you never thought of….And we often find out that a job doesn’t just consist of only a single task. If your goal is to be a nurse, it has thousands of exciting options for both men and women. Don’t get hung up on Nurse. The plan is the springboard to a kaleidoscope of exciting opportunities. Look around on your way, and see what’s out there. I lived a very adventurous life as an Army Nurse and the retirement ain’t bad either.
Thanks for this article! I was fortunate and blessed to retire at 61 and honestly, though grateful for my career, couldn’t get out of there soon enough. Now 17 months have passed, and as an empty nester and single, I am foundering despite all the ideas I’ve “fallen in love with” over the years. It’s not what I thought. People say you have to find something. Engage. Get involved. Force yourself. After a while those words are cliche’. Well meaning but lose substance. You intrinsically know these things to be true but, they’re diluted after some point. So I truly appreciate how Mr. Charles articulates his article in such a way as to put tangible picture, objective, perspective of reality, whatever, in MY mind’s eye and thoughts. Said in a way that, a real human person needs a real goal, a catalyst, just the right spark, within a doable parameter as to motivate or compel. Not just party line verbiage from a self-help book in the clinic’s waiting room. So, like a good slap from Mr. Charles I’d like to say, “Thanks! I needed that!”