What if it’s not about enjoying the journey?
I'm someone who loves the journey. When I look back on the glorious decade I was fortunate enough to spend sliding down mountains, wearing tights, competing for my country... What I remember the most aren't the days that we raised the flag over German soil, our biggest rivals, but rather the days in the gym in the summertime, the endless discussions around shin angles and hip flexion, and the wintertime truck drives on the Autobahn.
But at the time, I would not have recognized these things as highlights nor enjoyable. The truck drives, for example, were awkward and long. Often, my teammates, who were in much faster (and more comfortable) SUVs whizzed down the autobahn at 200km/hour while I was stuck putting along at 120km/hour. They always got to the hotels first and snagged the nicest hotel rooms. Back then, I would have jumped at the chance to skip over those long, annoying drives - and I did jump whenever the opportunity arose. Yet now, I remember them fondly. They’re a marker of the consistent, quiet, dedicated effort that made up that time in my life.
Why are the things we're most proud of often things that we didn't enjoy at the time?
And, how do we recognize when we’re doing something that our future self will be proud of?
I think the answer to the first question is pretty simple: because we are human beings. Our evolution has taught us to conserve energy, avoid hard things at all costs, avoid risk, and seek safety.
Yet when we do hard things (including the stuff that just seems boring or annoying at the time), we learn what we’re capable of, we build resilience, we expand our perceived limitations—and that makes us proud (and mentally healthy, says the American Psychological Association). It’s that simple.
You’ve heard the cliche: “It’s about the journey, not the destination.”
But the reality is, the journey isn’t always speeding down the autobahn in a luxury vehicle. Sometimes it’s sandwiching yourself into the driver’s seat of an Iveco truck, sitting at a 90-degree angle, while getting passed left and right by Mercedes drivers as you’re weighed down by 2,000 pounds of bobsleds and equipment. “Enjoy the journey” sounds nice, but in reality, it isn’t always possible. And in fact, “enjoying the journey” while pursuing Olympic Gold isn’t remotely the point in the moment.
I’d argue that Western culture and the current zeitgeist has romanticized the journey to the point where we’ve actually made it significantly harder to accomplish difficult goals. Stress and pressure have become the enemy (to the point where they are perceived as debilitating), and so we've run to the corner of protecting the journey—attempting to make it a purely “enjoyable experience” in the name of self-preservation.
Before I go any further, what's important to recognize is this is not an “either-or’” concept.
We can both appreciate the journey, and at the exact same time covet the destination - with equal fervor.
When we do this, we give ourselves the ability to toggle between motivations whenever and wherever we need to, including in moments when it might otherwise be difficult to find. Our motivation isn’t then attached to one thing - whether that be “enjoying/liking” the act, wanting to “enjoy the journey”, or being “laser-focused” on the outcome.
Because a struggle to find motivation happens to every single one of us, almost every day.
There is not one successful person in business, in sport, in the arts, or in any other domain I've been fortunate enough to have these discussions with who does not regularly struggle to find motivation.
But when I scratch deeper than the surface of so much of the current advice dictating “enjoy the journey” as a NorthStar, many of those same successful people buckle under the weight of the retrospective joy of a goal harshly pursued. They are proud of the suck embraced, of the courage demonstrated, of the ownership taken, and the nobility in it all - not of the journey truly enjoyed in the moment.
- Steve
