Just try

In the beginning of May, I finally created my activity log. Nothing complicated, just a bunch of things listed that the person I’d like to become would do on a daily or weekly basis. Based on a hierarchical value system of mine.

My motivation skyrocketed, my energy came back. From one day to another, I regained my excitement for life and my interest in the things I’ve been neglecting for years now. For example, I started cooking regularly again, and I’m cooking more delicious meals than ever before. So nothing extreme, basically I just do the everyday tasks without attaching any negative emotions to them. Or simply put, I stopped whining about life and instead I see how the small things (that everyone has to face daily) improve the quality of my life. Like doing the dishes straight after cooking and eating. Untying my shoelace just to protect that heel padding a little more. They don’t feel like a burden anymore, if anything I see them as tiny wins that make me feel encouraged and good. Almost as if I were collecting some non-existent streaks of some kind. The worst case became to do them neutrally without a good or bad annotation.

As I was bragging to my therapist about how good and responsible this makes me feel, I also mentioned how revealing it is. I don’t only see the little wins, but the things I avoid too. In the next couple of minutes, the bragging soon turned into a self-analysis, exploring a weakness I’ve been trying to escape from for ages. It’s about time to finally conquer it, even though I’m not yet sure how.

But hey, admitting’ is the first step

And hey, you know ain’t nobody perfect ¹

I noticed in my log I stopped working on my hobby project, r u n i. Just a month or so ago I was passionate about it, like it was changing my life. Because it was. I started playing around with the idea of turning my running metrics into abstract visual art that conveys how the run felt. As opposed to diving into the numbers for a deep analysis to fine-tune performance. Why? Because I wanted to learn computer graphics and be able to create enthralling artworks that are personal and unique. It would also be a great reminder for me that running should be fun first, trying to eliminate or reduce the continuous urge to chase performance leading me to constant dissatisfaction and injuries. Helping myself find my way back to why I started running in the first place: joy.

As the project shaped up, I started to share the idea with my friends. All of whom asked the same question right away: So what is the revenue model for your app? I tried to fight it off, explaining it’s a hobby project first, and if it ever sees the light, it will be free to use anyways. I’m just hoping it would help others just as much to see beyond pace, distance, or time goals as it helps me. And perhaps be obsessed with this beauty, the act of running itself.

But eventually, their question seeped into my mind. Maybe this could be a big thing. People might actually use it. And if I could come up with ways to make profit without ever deteriorating the experience, it would be a win-win. Even if it doesn’t get picked up by the masses, it still could be good for my CV, given that the code and UX are spotless. So at least it could help me land new jobs in a new domain that is closer to my heart.

And suddenly it felt like my future and my whole life depend on it. The perfectionist in me kicked in. It has to be perfect, otherwise no one will use it, and there’s going to be no revenue. Even worse, it’s not only not going to help with job applications, it’s actually going to repel companies.

I froze. I couldn’t deal with it, so escaping felt like the only chance. If I didn’t build anything, it couldn’t ruin my life.

You can’t get hurt if you don’t try.

This is not the first occasion. I amplified the significance of my marathon to the point where I overtrained myself into injuries. Several times. I wanted my first marathon to mean something, to have a bigger purpose than just dragging myself through the finish line. More than just doing something that I love doing and do on a daily basis anyways. I wanted my close ones to see that all those times I picked my training over them wasn’t just selfishness. It was a shared sacrifice that paid off. I also wanted other equally lost souls like me to be inspired to go after their dreams. But suddenly, running a good time became a massive baggage that I couldn’t carry on, and each DNS (Did Not Start) just proved me wrong. It felt like I was letting down everyone who supported me. That my discipline and priorities were built on a false premise that led me nowhere.

Getting to the starting line injured helped me get rid of these bigger-than-myself goals. All I wanted was just to try to survive. And survive I did. Not only that, but I enjoyed every minute of it. Even the two hours of cramps through the last 13km.

I’m not yet sure how I can apply this “just try to survive” mentality here. Maybe it’s not even trying to survive, just simply trying.

1: Bound 2 by Kanye West

Tuesday, 9 June 2026