What is motivation?

In five and a half weeks, I will be quitting my job, moving out of my apartment, and most importantly, going on the longest vacation I have had in 7 years. When I bought my plane ticket a few weeks ago and set a last day for myself in the lab, I felt a sense of finality. While ever since graduating last year, I hadn't been very motivated at work, I suddenly felt like this was going to be the last time I "could" do this - do experiments, think like a scientist. Of course that's not true, I am sure that in the future, I will at times return to the bench or at least to basic science and will have the chance - as a choice, not a must-do - to do research again, but at least for some time, this is it. Then there is that thing with me and negative reinforcement. After my boss basically admitted that he wasn't the least bit interested in my project, I wanted to show both him and myself that it was indeed interesting and worth doing. I guess there are people in this world who, if told that they can't do something, they really believe that they cannot; and people who will do anything to prove the doubters wrong. I think that might have a thing or two to do with the fact that I have gotten a PhD in Biology (after my high school Biology teacher laughing at me in front of the whole class after I told her I wanted to study medicine, I must have subconsciously been driven down this path).

So a few weeks ago, I suddenly became quite manic about work. I started several experiments at the same time, spent entire weekends in the lab, stayed late to finish something that could have waited till the next day but I really wanted to know the results of; I even began contemplating results and future experiments on my commutes, occasionally jotting down ideas in my notebook. Simply put, I was motivated again. I would even go as far as saying that I once again became excited about my work in the lab. One night, pretty late, I was walking to the subway with a friend and colleague, and she expressed her surprise at my sudden hard work. I told her I wasn't entirely sure what was going on but that it just felt right. After all, it doesn't make a whole lot of sense: I could spend these last few weeks relaxing, taking days off, organizing things, cleaning up. Instead, I am working like a maniac on this new project that I most likely won't have time to wrap up. She said she understood completely. It's something about scientists. She said she was glad I haven't entirely lost that part of me.

Around the same time that this newfound motivation kicked in, I also felt a new excitement about running. As they say, when it rains it pours. When I become busier I usually become more productive at everything I do. That is why I don't really want to ever stop moving! Since I was working longer hours, I found myself stressing over not being able to carve out time for runs anymore. Days went by without putting on my running shoes. Even a week. Then one weekend I knew I was going to be in the lab all day, I took my running gear with me and decided to try to go between experiments. I discovered several great things about this tactic. First, it gave me something to look forward to and motivate me in the beginning of the day. Second, it made for a nice break in the monotony of a long day. Third, quite unexpectedly, I realized that I missed my old route. For 5 years, I used to start every run on the Upper East Side, on York Ave. It was a nice warmup getting to the park. Having to occasionally stop at red lights made for a good run-walk-stop kind of 1st mile. Now, I start at my apartment and in 3 minutes I am in the park and then there is Harlem hill right on the 1st mile. Not pleasant! Most days, I struggle on the hill and only start feeling better after the long downhill to 102nd street. During one of these old-route during-the-day-break runs, I started thinking that I should try changing my running schedule. I figured that taking more frequent but shorter running breaks might better fit my current schedule. It might also better fit my future med school schedule. After hours of sitting and memorizing all the bones in the body, it might be crucial to go for a 30-minute run to hold on to my sanity. So I decided to try this: instead of trying to run at least a loop around the park (6M or 10K) every time I go out there, I want to do maybe 3-4 miles at a time. To the Reservoir and around it and then back to lab, or home. That way, I can probably go more often (4-5 times/week), the big loop would become more "special" and reserved for weekends when I had more time, and I could maybe even improve my speed a little if I incorporated some tempo and interval runs into the schedule. So this week, I went running 4 times (most weekly runs in probably 6 months), completing the entire loop only once, doing an interval run with 3x4-minute (~800m) sprints (well, felt like sprinting to me at least) and a pretty easy relaxed run today.

I am particularly proud of today's effort. Last night, a friend from the old fencing days in the Midwest was in town. He arrived late and drank very fast. After a few-too-many gin&tonics, a full breakfast at 2am at Tom's, I was up at 9am to make it to a day-time breakfast I foolishly agreed to have at 10am with another friend. After opening my eyes, my next movement was reaching for the bottle of Advil on my dresser. Somehow, I made it to the Upper East Side on time, and after some french toast, 2 eggs and 2 cups of coffee, I felt mostly human again. Another hour lounging in bed, and suddenly I felt guilty about being lazy. Before having time to change my mind, I quickly put on some running clothes and headed out. On my way to the park, which is only 6 blocks, I thought I would not even make it to 110th. It felt like there were heavy weights attached to my legs and arms. It took considerable effort just holding myself up. I felt sluggish and creaky. Finally I was in the park, I stopped to collect myself, stretched a little and headed up the dreaded hill. Ugh, not fun! But I made it - I think a 70 year old man passed me and seemed like he was going twice as fast as me. But I made it. On the downhill, I felt much better, then by the time I turned towards the Reservoir, I was picking up the pace. Phew. Run #4 of the week. Complete. And I felt so much better after I got home. Thank you, endorphins! Then I was ready to take on the day. Some pictures of that - near South Street Seaport: