Why I Try

Note that this post isn't titled with the play on words "Why I Tri," a staple in the triathlon blogosphere and a feature in the newsletter or website of every triathlon group in the country.  This is less about what motivates me to do triathlons and more wondering how it ever even occurred to me to make this kind of effort.

I started thinking about this earlier this week when I read two articles in as many hours, both about women's self-esteem in the classroom.  One was about how bright fifth grade girls were quicker to give up on a challenge than their less intelligent male counterparts, and the other was about how women were less likely to be vocal and engaged in law school.   Both articles felt like I was reading my horoscope.

"The Trouble With Bright Girls" by Heidi Grant Halvarson on the Huffington Post posed an interesting theory as to why the smartest girls were often the quickest to give up.

Most likely, it has to do with the kinds of feedback we get from parents and teachers as young children. Girls, who develop self-control earlier and are better able to follow instructions, are often praised for their "goodness." When we do well in school, we are told that we are "so smart," "so clever, " or "such a good student." This kind of praise implies that traits like smartness, cleverness and goodness are qualities you either have or you don't.


Boys, on the other hand, are a handful. Just trying to get boys to sit still and pay attention is a real challenge for any parent or teacher. As a result, boys are given a lot more feedback that emphasizes effort (e.g., "If you would just pay attention you could learn this," "If you would just try a little harder you could get it right.") The net result: When learning something new is truly difficult, girls take it as sign that they aren't "good" and "smart," and boys take it as a sign to pay attention and try harder.

The National Jurist reports on a survey demonstrating what happens when these bright girls grow up and go to law school:

“Female students are less likely to place themselves in situations they perceive to be risky,” said Lindsay Watkins, the survey’s project manager at the Center for Postsecondary Research at Indiana University in Bloomington. “Female students were more likely to report working hard in law school to either avoid embarrassment in front of their peers, or out of a fear of failure, than were their male classmates.”

I read the first article from a link on a friend's Facebook page and one woman commented that in her experience as a teacher, it was absolutely true that telling children they are bright and smart is counterproductive.  It was much more important to give positive feedback for their effort and work habits.  Another guy wrote jokingly but thought-provokingly that maybe video games were the secret to self-esteem:  "As a lad, I learned how to fail, restart, power-up, and reach the next level - with new powers! - again, and again, and again."

Later that night I got to thinking (cue the Carrie Bradshaw voiceover) . . . I've always been more brainy than brawny, why wasn't I more risk-averse when it came to trying sports?  Why did I turn bright red and my heart race when trading essays in high school for peer review, but had no problem competing on the gymnastics team?  (I seriously sucked - a perfect score is 10,  I rarely scored above a 6, and often scored in the 3 range.)  I ate lunch in the library every day 1L year re-reading Torts cases out of fear that I would make a fool out of myself when given the Socratic method, yet I trained on my own for my first marathon without a clue what I was doing and am not embarrassed at all about my time -- 5:27:53!!!  The first few months of my first real lawyer job, I walked home every day with my head hung low, convinced that I was the dumbest, least capable person in the entire world, but during my first half-Ironman I held my head up high starting the second loop of the run course when most other racers were finishing.

Why the discontinuity?  Maybe since I was never naturally talented at sports growing up, I was given praise for my effort and that has stayed with me.  Perhaps I owe my crazy triathlon-ing to my kickball coach in third grade.  My Dad often reminds me that before every game she would say, "What do I want you girls to do out there?," and we would recite in unison, "THINK!"  Or, maybe since school and academic endeavors have always been easier for me, I'm more likely to tend towards perfectionism, which can be very paralyzing.  When I enter a half-marathon or triathlon, I know I have no chance at succeeding in the objective sense, so I can just relax and focus on doing my best.

Speaking of half-marathons, I am racing in Moab in two weeks!  This is the most consistently and methodically that I've ever trained for a running event (a subject for another post), so I'm pretty excited to see what I can do out there.  But regardless of what my chip time ends up being, I think it's safe to say that I'll be proud of myself for my effort and hard work.