The plan was on paper.
It had objectives, timelines, and even a formal name.
Relaunch 2020.
I was determined to fire on all cylinders as the new decade rolled in. It was all mapped out.
I would leverage my newly minted master’s degree into a marketing role at a major company. I would take my volunteer leadership efforts to new heights. I would accelerate healthy living habits. And I would strengthen my relationships with friends and family.
My first decade of adulthood had been rocky at times. There were certainly some accomplishments worth celebrating. But there was also a career shift, two moves to new cities, and a continual struggle to earn a respectable living wage.
I’d risen to meet the challenges I’d faced, over and over. But I had started to feel myself stagnating, and I worried about putting an artificial lid on my potential.
This is what spurred me to enroll in business school while working full-time. It’s what convinced me to work out more and improve my diet. It’s what led me to take on a leadership role with my local alumni chapter.
Relaunch 2020 would be the next phase of all this groundwork. It would lead to tangible results that would improve my life. And in doing so, it would cut down on my anxiety.
As 2020 approached, I could feel the momentum building. I was filled with excitement.
I was on the edge of realizing my dreams. And then they were ripped away from me.
It’s a harrowing feeling when the world you thought you knew transforms into something that’s anything but familiar.
I’ve experienced this dystopia several times in my life. I felt it in the aftermath of the 9/11 attacks. I lived it in the white-knuckle years of the Great Recession.
But nothing quite knocked me to my knees like the onset of a microscopic virus.
The COVID Pandemic disrupted all our lives in previously unheard-of ways. But the aspects of those disruptions — well, they seemed like a bowling ball taking dead aim at all my hopes and dreams.
The job market dried up as both office spaces and the economy temporarily shuttered. In-person events all but disappeared. And many health and wellness amenities went dark — ironically, in the name of protecting public health.
Suddenly, my hopes of getting a new job were scuttled. I needed to jump through hoops to work out. And, for a time, I was prohibited from even seeing my friends and family.
At first, I was fine giving all this up. The virus was frightening, and sacrifices were needed to keep it at bay.
So, I paused the job search. I pivoted from lifting weights at the gym to running outside. And I replaced in-person visits with videocalls.
But as the pandemic dragged on indeterminately, I grew more and more agitated. I had formed a plan to get out of the situation I was in, only to see the universe bar me from following through.
My dreams were denied. At least that’s what I thought.
It’s not how many times you get knocked down. It’s how many times you get back up.
This boxing analogy has become tired, even cliché.
We’ve made too much of our own resilience, even considering it a feature of our life’s journey. In doing so, we make it seem if the mere presence of a setback will send us roaring into high gear.
It’s rarely that simple.
As I sought to move past the power punch the Pandemic threw at me, it seemed opportunities for resilience were lacking. With the business world in the throes of a recession and social life on hold, I didn’t even have a stage for my comeback. I would need to be patient and see how it all would play out.
But as I bided my time, the calculus changed yet again.
First, my employer was acquired by a different company. Second, in-person road races returned — giving me a forum to benchmark my running abilities.
I ultimately found unexpected opportunities from both these developments. I was able to move to a new role on the marketing team of the parent company of my employer. And through racing, I was able to find running groups and a broader running community.
Now, I’m thriving in my career. I’m using the full breadth of my marketing skillset while embracing the support my efforts yield. And I’ve gone from a recreational runner to an advanced one, scoring top finishes in shorter races and training for major marathons.
None of this was in the cards for Relaunch 2020. I was supposed to switch employers, not stay on board. There was no mention of running one mile, let alone 26.2.
And yet, I am still living the ethos of that plan. I’m realizing my full potential, while taking aim at the opportunities that still lie ahead. And it is glorious.
My dreams were deferred, but they have not been denied.
Tick, tick, tick.
That once was the soundtrack of my mind.
No longer.
Sure, I still feel a sense of urgency. I’m not getting any younger, and there’s now a generation directly below me going after the same things I am.
But I’ve come to learn that my destiny might not arrive right on schedule. And the costs of such a delay might not be as steep as I once feared.
To be clear, I still don’t expect such delayed gratification to befall me. And I’m keenly aware that I must still have a plan to bridge the gap if it does.
But I’m far better equipped to roll with the punches now. For I have seen light at the end of the tunnel and basked in its glow. And I recognize that there are many routes to a desirable destination.
So, to all agitated at the status quo, to all those frustrated by the prospect of dreams deferred, don’t despair.
Hope still lucks on the horizon if you’re willing to look for it.
Deferred is not denied.