Sports Days (On Giving Up)

Posted on May 23rd 2025

Once when I was studying a Counselling Skills module the trainer said 'When things are simple, people generally do them. So if they’re struggling to do something, however straightforward it may seem to you, to them it is not simple.'

I have continued to find that insight immensely helpful; a humane slap in the face to the ‘Just do it’ Nike mentality.

There are 'affirmations' that are repeated often about how to make a life, a career, in this world of monetised attention-seeking and where nuance drowns in information overload:

Just keep going

You’ll get there

Believe in yourself

Think positive

Visualise your goals 

Manifest your reality

Never give up

These exhortations for how to succeed may be of use to you, as they obviously are to many. Context is everything. They make me think of School Sports Days.

As a child, if you feel fundamentally worthless and are terrified that that is true, then competing in a running race becomes impossible. You feel your legs disintegrate before you even join the starting line. You have nothing to stand on. You can't run on fractures.

If you fail to win, it’s simply confirmation that you are useless. And you don’t know how much more confirmation of that you can bear.

On the other hand, if you were somehow to win despite all that, then everyone would be watching you and that’s unbearable because when they see you, they will all see how useless you really are. If they pay attention to you they will all see it. You do not want to be on that winner’s podium.

And yet, just maybe, they might all see something else. They might also love you, if you can just win enough times. By a big enough margin. Without ever faltering.

But then, isn't it all just supposed to be a fun day for everyone? Not such a terribly big deal. Why are you so stressed out about it? 

 

If – instead of running – what you are good at doing is writing, or singing, or making up stories, then being creative becomes an arena you are compelled to stand in. It’s what you are. It brings you joy and a sense of your true power and an endless expansiveness. The possibility of a home where you shine.

Where you must compete and be excellent. And it’s terrifying and you feel, you know, you cannot stand up – your legs have not learned to support you – much less run. And to be able to compete? Not possible. Your knees crumble into powder at the thought.

And yet, paradoxically, art is what helps you understand and make sense of it all. The one place, the one time, you don't feel alone. 

So you try to keep going.

Though you may also give up.