setting goals

True Story:

I sat down today with a pen and paper and wrote down a little phrase that is supposed to help me win Life. I had scribed "Short Term Goals:" as my pen arose from the paper. Just at that very point a *twing* erupted from beneath my belly button. With hunger interrupting my list of goals I went to the pantry for a fresh jar of Dry Roasted Peanuts. If you like salt soaked snacks, you know what a dry roasted peanut is. It is what happens to the peanut man on the Planters container after he runs an ultra-marathon and is covered in peanut-man sweat, then roasted. These nuts are a favorite snack of mine.

As I stared at my pending list of goals and my freshly opened jar of dry roasted peanuts, a question arose regarding my existence. Could I consume an entire 16 ounce jar of dry roasted peanuts right at this very moment? Seems like a good goal, and since I only had about an hour, it would have to be short-term. I decided to write "eat entire jar of peanuts" on the list just for a laugh, then started eating the nuts by the handful.

It was a hot day, and I wanted to take this goal, like most life-goals, very seriously. I filled a large glass with tap water to make sure the salt would dilute and I wouldn't get too dehydrated or whatever. I also realized, quickly that this goal was attainable. A few handfuls in, and the nuts were already below the label. It had only been a couple of minutes, so I sipped some water and took a deep breath of summer air. Within that warm summer air was the smell of success. I could see why people write whole books about achieving your goals... It feels great, even if you haven't finished the task... achievement, it's like being repotted in a bigger pot because you have grown and your roots no longer fit in the small terra-cotta container, they need a bigger one to spread out and conquer.

At the 15 minute mark the jar of nuts was half gone. No problemo. I picked up my pen again to think of more goals I could crush, but before jotting anything down- the phone rang. It was a friend who had been without power calling me to tell me about how the power was back on. We chatted for a bit as I popped a couple nuts here and there. Upon completion of the call, I realized something- I had procrastinated!

My peanut goal had lost 15 minutes without really consuming much more than a dozen or so nuts. I thought about why I even wanted to do this and if it was worth it. Calories and salt intake are all issues people I know think a lot about. I was on the verge of consuming 3000 calories and somewhere around a billion milligrams of sodium. What sort of effect would that have on a 28 year old person? It was no big deal to NOT eat the nuts. Nobody saw me make the Short Term Goals List, and not a soul would know if I just crumpled it up and threw it in the bin, BUT, for some reason, I felt compelled to motor on. I did not want to look in the mirror and see a failure, and since there are a good 6 or 7 mirrors in my house, it would be unavoidable.

I sat back down and raced through the next quarter jar of nuts. I was well on my way when I felt as though the nuts were taking effect on my stomach. My body was thinking there was enough salt in my stomach, and wanted to let me know. It was an odd feeling of nausea mixed with failure. No no no! I thought. Continuing through the jar, I saw completion of my first goal take shape.

The jar was polished off in about 40 minutes. I didn't eat the salt at the bottom because I don't really consider that part of it- Part of putting one's mind to a goal and achieving it, which felt nice.

I lifted the pen and crossed "eat entire jar of peanuts" from the top of my goals list.

More Sports Posts

You know what? Considering how sports-addicted I am, I really haven't incorporated the love to the blog. Today, though, I had a thought that may need a bit of flushing out here.

Why are sports set up to have everyone but ONE team be considered a failure. There is the WORLD CHAMPION and then there are the losers. Such has been swirling in my head since the Philadelphia Flyers, led by Chrissy Pronger, fell a few shifts short of the Chicago Blackhawks in the quest for Lord Stanley's Cup.

The Blackhawks were a young, fast odds on favorite at the start of the playoffs to hoist the cup, while the Flyers barely squeeked in on the last day as a lowly-seeded underdog. Sure enough, Chicago outlasted the fly-guys and were crowned victorious, but not before the fly-guys sent all us fans on a 3 week ride as exciting as you can ask for from a sports team. They overcame and overcame at a clip only seen in Rambo movies and Martin Luther King documentaries. They deserve something more than being "runner up".

Professional sports is nothing more than a business. A 60 year old hippy told me that just last night. We all know it, quit denying it... The payday is the most important thing. SO- what sense does it make that only 1 team can be the winner. Since the green-backs are the ultimate goal and winning brings in the green-backs, shouldn't we try to get more winners. I think the Flyers championed something... Maybe they deserve a bit more than Eastern Conf. Champions hats. They shouldn't have to go home to their lonely wives with anything less than the ferocious appetite of a champion. They earned it.

Sports though- it's a shit show. Rings and crowns and sneakers that sell for too much. All the hilarious absurdities of it all and all I can think of is how great the Flyers performed. I never expected it. I listened to a few men on the tele-box who seem to sound like they know what they are talking about discount the Flyers every night for 3 weeks, and all the Flyers did was show those greasy fake-tanned suit wearing blabbergasts that they could play hockey and could probably out skate any Yamaguchi in a Mickey Mouse helmet if it came down to that. Tension and pressure are part of ice hockey, but they are also parts of mystery novels. The Flyers became Sherlock Holmes like it was nobody's business.

So- when routing for your team. Whatever team it may be; the Blue Rocks, The Orange-bomber, the Bearenstein Bears, Snoop Dogg's little league team, the crazy South-African dancing soccer team- remember victory is one thing, but there is more to sport than just ending up the champion. There is the roller coaster, there is the camaraderie, there is the edge of the sofa sensation, and there is the fact that eventually... maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but someday- everyone will make the statement, "it kind of weirds me out to think I'm X years older than all these dudes."


oop- PS edit... I wanted to mention that I also lost two bets and won 2 bets during the playoffs, all of which I think are worth noting.

Bet 1: 2 Boston v. 7 Flyers round 2 of the Eastern Conf. Playoffs. I bet a friend here when the Flyers were already losing game 1. I had been trying to get a hold of this friend to place a bet, but neither of us are that great at answering our phones. Finally- the night after game 1 I get a phone call from my friend. Earlier, we had sort of agreed to bet, but the stakes were set at the loser having to drink any pint of booze the winner presents him with. Since the Flyers were already in the hole, he gave me odds... He would take a swig out of the pint he bought me... which would have probably been jagermeister. (Note- this bet was washed clean after a double or nothing was placed and the Phillies refused to score runs on the Red Sox the following weekend).

Bet 2: the Penguins v. Flyers bet: wait a sec- these teams didn't meet up in the playoffs!? Well, they almost did, but the Penguins were one pedicure short and couldn't get past the canadians in the second round. The last few years I had lost cases of beer (that ended up being less than cases of beer) in a Flyers v Penguins bet with a Pittsburghian pal. This year, he figured Montreal could beat the Flyers, so I wrangled a (as of yet to be drank) case of beer from the Flyers shellacking of the Habs.

Bet 3: I bet a friend who grew up in this area, then moved to Chicago that the Flyers would beat chi-town. Stakes- loser buys the winner dinner. Sure enough, after many a text message- I think I am buying a steak covered deep dish pizza next time I am in Chicago. I should mention that this person suddenly became a blackhawks fan after growing up in Flyer country.

Bet 4: this bet was made with another Chicago transfer. The stakes are the most interesting part. The loser of the bet (me) will have to buy a drink of the winner's choice and present it to a bar patron, also of the winner's choice. So apparently next time I have a drink in Chicago I am going to have to buy a sea breeze for whatever man has the most tattooes at the bar. Does that make sense? ah geez... screw it.