I Might Be Wrong: The mystique of streaks
Tony Gonzalez
Issue date: 11/15/07 Section: Opinion
She said her self-motivation tricks are secret.
When she takes up a challenge, be it a subtle diet, re-dedication to running, or effort to write faster on deadline, she doesn't tell anyone.
I still don't know what goals she met. But I know I don't keep secrets like her. When I make forays into self-improvement I mutter and boast and hope someone will help hold me to my personal promises.
There's only one type of self-motivation I can conceal. That type is the personal streak - a long string of doing (or not doing) something that eventually becomes a rule for behavior. You can read a variety of articles about personal streaks in this week's Focus section on B4.
As for me, I'm amid a streak of never discussing my streaks. But that's about to come to an end. I've often talked about streaks, but never disclosed what they are.
It's probably because mine are mundane. A fellow editor has a streak of never having eaten at a Taco Bell. How can I compare?
I have a 10-year streak of putting on my left shoe before my right. It's superstitious.
For some time I refused to poke back on Facebook. Stubborn and (to this day) wary of the site, I launched the No Poke Streak with good intentions. I figured the rule would keep my Facebook participation streamlined and business-only. It worked, in part, but met the demise known to most streaks. I poked. I'll probably poke again.
I also went two years without text messaging. One day though, something tricked me. Ah-ha, I thought, because I never text, a single rare message will carry so much substance. Then, she knows I'm on an anti-text message streak, so she'll be forever indebted by my grand streak-breaking gesture.
She wasn't. But, streak broken, the gates opened to sending ever more frequent 15-cent messages.
Nobody deserves blame for the death of my streaks. But I worry about their potency. As motivation or self-control games, streaks seem like the perfect trick to ignite my competitive self.
Maybe embarking on a streak, like talking about a life ambition, is a losing endeavor. Some things may be better left unsaid or unnoticed.
We don't talk about no-hitters while the pitcher is on the mound and while I don't want to make a streak against streaks, I think I'm increasingly incapable of maintaining one. I should pipe down and forget streaks.
And I might as well end one more streak while I'm at it. I've never published a piece with the word "very" in it.
Glad that's done.
Hillsdale College Collegian, 2007
When she takes up a challenge, be it a subtle diet, re-dedication to running, or effort to write faster on deadline, she doesn't tell anyone.
I still don't know what goals she met. But I know I don't keep secrets like her. When I make forays into self-improvement I mutter and boast and hope someone will help hold me to my personal promises.
There's only one type of self-motivation I can conceal. That type is the personal streak - a long string of doing (or not doing) something that eventually becomes a rule for behavior. You can read a variety of articles about personal streaks in this week's Focus section on B4.
As for me, I'm amid a streak of never discussing my streaks. But that's about to come to an end. I've often talked about streaks, but never disclosed what they are.
It's probably because mine are mundane. A fellow editor has a streak of never having eaten at a Taco Bell. How can I compare?
I have a 10-year streak of putting on my left shoe before my right. It's superstitious.
For some time I refused to poke back on Facebook. Stubborn and (to this day) wary of the site, I launched the No Poke Streak with good intentions. I figured the rule would keep my Facebook participation streamlined and business-only. It worked, in part, but met the demise known to most streaks. I poked. I'll probably poke again.
I also went two years without text messaging. One day though, something tricked me. Ah-ha, I thought, because I never text, a single rare message will carry so much substance. Then, she knows I'm on an anti-text message streak, so she'll be forever indebted by my grand streak-breaking gesture.
She wasn't. But, streak broken, the gates opened to sending ever more frequent 15-cent messages.
Nobody deserves blame for the death of my streaks. But I worry about their potency. As motivation or self-control games, streaks seem like the perfect trick to ignite my competitive self.
Maybe embarking on a streak, like talking about a life ambition, is a losing endeavor. Some things may be better left unsaid or unnoticed.
We don't talk about no-hitters while the pitcher is on the mound and while I don't want to make a streak against streaks, I think I'm increasingly incapable of maintaining one. I should pipe down and forget streaks.
And I might as well end one more streak while I'm at it. I've never published a piece with the word "very" in it.
Glad that's done.
Hillsdale College Collegian, 2007
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