Points of failure: The comparison trap

I’d been in a funk since last month. 

It came out of nowhere. Summer has been enjoyable and I’ve felt excited about my progress on a few projects:

• I finished two short stories I’d started back in December.

• Completed a batch of songs and booked studio time to record them. 

• Published an essay I was not expecting to write. 

Then, on a sunny Chicago afternoon, I met up with a friend passing through town while on tour. We used to play in a high school band together; now he travels the world as the sound engineer for a major label acts. 

I find his path remarkable. 

Back then, he was one of the most unreliable musicians I’d ever played with. Today, he’s Grammy-winning recording engineer. He’s someone I had to update my file on and draw inspiration from, a sentiment I’ve shared with him. But as I finally watched him run point on a huge production in front of thousands of people, I fell into a trap: comparison. 

Was I happy for him? Absolutely.

Inspired? Of course.

And yet, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was somehow behind on my own path. I’m embarrassed to admit it, but It crushed me for weeks. 

Some days later, like I often do when I need clarity, I went for a run. I’ve been running for around two years now and share a group chat with friends who also run. We often post screenshots of our metrics: pace, distance, heart rate, etc. 

Most of them aim to shave seconds off their mile. Every week they get faster and faster. Me? I’ve been hovering around eleven minutes ever since I started. The thing is, I don’t care. I like to take my time. Running for me is more about the mental headspace it clears. 

This weekend, while on a trail, I thought about my friend and the feelings that watching him work had stirred up. I realized I’d been discrediting my own efforts, as if my progress doesn’t count if it doesn’t happen at someone else’s pace. I saw the absurdity in that. I looked down at my moving feet and thought:

A mile traveled is never lost. It’s earned. 

It was the clarity I needed to snap out of the mood I’d been in. I was able to see that just like with running, so long as I’m moving in the direction of my goals, I shouldn’t be too concerned about my pace. I should instead to enjoy the views, feel proud of the sweat, and to celebrate every mile along the way.