End of the Year Reflection – 2024

I was in a bit of a fog yesterday. Ending the year can feel difficult because we tend to reflect on what we’ve done, what we’re doing, and what’s next. In most areas of my life, I had a respectable year. I finished my first 50-mile ultrarun; published papers in academic journals; completed freelance writing projects; and posted several blogs. But the end of this calendar year still feels anticlimactic.

I needed some encouragement and thought of one of Martin Luther King Jr.’s most famous motivational quotes to “keep moving.” I read his full address to Spelman college in 1960. King’s quote is based on a reflection from Langston Hughes’ poem, “Mother to Son”, on the difficulty of life and going on anyway. At the end of the King’s speech, he asserts:

“Life for none of us has been a crystal stair, but there is something we can learn from the broken grammar of that mother, that we must keep moving. If you can’t fly, run; if you can’t run, walk; if you can’t walk, crawl; but by all means keep moving.”

King also reminds us of the importance of living our lives, that we shouldn’t only work. Even 64 years after King delivered this speech, we still need this reminder:

“There is always the danger that we will become more concerned about making a living than making a life—that we will not keep that line of division between life and one’s livelihood.”

It’s easy to obsess over work. We tend to define ourselves based on what we do, so we turn verbs into nouns. Writer, researcher, (ultra)runner, and powerlifter are a few nouns I could hold over the years. But I agree with Austin Kleon, that we shouldn’t get so attached to the nouns and focus on the verbs instead.

I like to write because it helps me better understand every aspect of my life. I write to reflect on social relationships, research ideas, running workouts, and daily rituals. It helps me discover connections between topics. Writing lets me focus on what’s important, remember the details that matter to me, and helps reveal patterns in my life. Writing and the reflection that comes with it seem to help me find meaning.

So writing is what I am focusing on for now. I am prioritizing reading and note-taking, writing more clearly, genuinely, and committing to completing long-form writing projects.

Since I’ve completed my first ultrarun, I’m in the “off season.” To refocus on my writing, I had to focus on other things first. Some might call it productive procrastination, but I had to reorganize much of my life before I could mindfully focus on writing. I started meal prepping again. I am batching my grains, like overnight oats, brown rice, and quinoa. I cleaned out the closets and packed away moving boxes to save for when I inevitably move again. I also made myself a proper writing and reading nook and organized my digital and physical notebooks, all done over a few days.

I am finally sitting down to write. Not at the writing desk I so carefully configured, but on the dismantled couch that sits on the floor of my living room, underneath a fleece blanket, in front of the desk I use for work. I write here while my cat snoozes beside me on top of the fleece blanket, snuggled into the cutest, most devious little black ball you’ve ever seen. While I’m writing to forge meaning in our constantly evolving lives, Rio dozes, falling in and out of sleep.

My sleepy cat, Rio. Image from author.

I am not sure what exactly is next for us, Rio and me. But my partner tells me to take it day by day. Anne Lammot tells us to take our writing “bird by bird.” Something I’m learning from ultrarunning is to take it mile by mile. Hell, sometimes even step by step. Whether we’re running, walking, or hobbling somewhere in between, we’re going somewhere. And, eventually, things get really quiet, peaceful even, and we finally make it to the waypoint where we need to be.

Sundown at Prospect Park during the last loop of a 50-mile ultrarun. Image from author.