The Process of Achievement

The best moment during an event isn’t when you find out you’ve won. It isn’t the moment when you’re standing on the podium hearing your national anthem or when you look up to the crowd and see a standing ovation.

Don’t get me wrong—these moments are wonderful. They feel amazing, satisfying, rewarding.

But the best moment, the moment your mind returns to decades later, is right after you’ve finished your job.

As a skater, it’s the moment immediately following the last note of your music, before your mind can register the roar of the crowd, before the anticipation of your marks and potential placement can creep in. It lasts a second—sometimes two. In an arena full of people, this moment is completely private and so fleeting.

All the training, all the nerves, all the “what ifs?” are behind you. You feel so full. You feel so complete.

You feel so proud of yourself.

We often think athletic achievement is defined by awards won, records broken, medals earned, endorsement deals, prize money and fame. After an athlete leaves competitive sports, they can spend decades chasing new achievements, trying to redefine themselves through external means. What was once medals and podium finishes may now be replaced with a GPA, the number of followers, an offer, a contract, the promotion, the relationship, the number on the scale that confirms we’re “good enough.”

While goals are great—they help give us a sense of purpose and meaning—striving for external achievement can often leave us feeling empty. We may find ourselves on a never-ending search for satisfaction, never feeling quite good enough despite our many accomplishments.

Why is this?

Achievement culture over-identifies self-worth with an external outcome. Similar to the dieting mindset, the fallacy behind the achievement mindset is that there will be this moment in time when something external—the relationship, the medal, the job offer—will define us. When we adopt this mindset, we also adopt the belief that our worth, internal safety and happiness will only come after the achievement is reached and will stay indefinitely following the accomplishment.

The problem behind this mindset is once we’ve met our goals, the benchmark inevitably rises. The feelings of worthiness, safety and happiness are brief, and soon we feel a sense of emptiness and sadness. The emptiness may compel us to chase a new goal. We minimize the achievement just reached and tell ourselves the worthiness we’re seeking will arrive after the next achievement.

Because of the never-ending nature of this mindset, we never feel like we’re completely there. We never feel like we’ve actually made it, that we have done enough, that we are enough. Just like dieting, this can result in chronic dissatisfaction, shame, self-blame and possibly depression. The anxiety tied to the pursuit of worthiness through external achievement can burn us out and make us feel out of control (because external outcomes are out of our control). We can feel like we’ve lost ourselves on the road to achievement, and when the accomplishment doesn’t meet our emotional expectations, we are left feeling disillusioned and resentful.

While we need to have goals—particularly if we identify as high achievers—the thinking and intention behind the goal is what is important. The thought process behind the achievement mindset—whether we’re aware of it or not—is that the outcome will define us. We are what we accomplish, and our identity is tied to external factors. To help ourselves shift away from the achievement mindset, we want to reframe our focus to intrinsic rewards and self-recognition.

This means we want to practice teaching ourselves that our satisfaction and worthiness aren’t dependent on the external; they come from within. This doesn’t mean we throw out external goals. Instead, we teach our brains to crave the inner satisfaction that is tied to intrinsic rewards.  We do this through a combination of setting goals that are not dependent on external factors and mindfulness techniques to acknowledge the progress we’re making along the way.

For example, if we’ve decided to train for a marathon, rather than waiting until we pass the finish line and have the medal around our necks to feel “like a good athlete” or “successful,” we want to celebrate the mornings we got up and defeated the voice of doubt that told us we wouldn’t be able to finish our run that day. We want to intentionally acknowledge how we championed for ourselves and pushed past the doubt—despite that inner voice trying to derail our training.

Or if we’re searching for a new job, rather than waiting until we receive an offer to feel “good enough,” we want to deliberately acknowledge how we showed up for ourselves during the interview process. We acknowledge the nerves we overcame and our willingness to go after what we want because it means we care about ourselves and are making progress in sitting with discomfort.

The moment after the music ends following a clean program as a skater is so rewarding because it’s a private moment. Only we know what it took to get ourselves there, the practices we showed up for, the many run-throughs we pushed through, the anxiety and self-doubt we overcame. This moment is special because it’s ours; no one and nothing outside of our control has defined it. We define that moment for ourselves.

After leaving competitive sports, we cultivate a similar satisfaction by intentionally savoring the “little” moments along the way towards any life goal. When our focus is only on the finish line, we tend to miss these moments. This contributes to the emptiness we may feel because we’ve been withholding self-acknowledgment until the journey is complete. When we savor and acknowledge who we are becoming and the many intrinsic victories on the road to the achievement, the attachment to the outcome softens. We don’t need the accomplish to feel complete, worthy and whole. Instead, we are consistently showing ourselves our worthiness and completeness is there along the way, so the accomplishment becomes a wonderful bonus that never carries the pressure of defining us.

The content on this blog is intended for educational and informational purposes only and is not a substitute for therapy. The content does not replace a therapeutic relationship with a licensed mental health professional.