I’m just not feeling it today.
How many times have you said something like this? Plenty, I’m sure.
We’re not on our A-game all the time. There are instances where we’re out of sync. There are moments where we don’t feel up to the task.
This has been true since the dawn of humanity. And it will continue to be true for generations to come.
And yet, the ways in which we handle such instances have changed in recent years.
I’m just not feeling it has morphed into a code word. It’s become an invitation to abandon the task if we’re not at our peak.
Such a strategy has become widely accepted. It’s even celebrated.
But should it be?
The greatest ability is availability.
Football coaches live by this quote. But applies far beyond the gridiron.
Just as the most legendary athletes have a penchant for staying in the game, the most accomplished among us tend to remain in the action.
That means showing up, even when we’re not at our best. It means giving our all, even when we know we don’t have much left to give.
It means running on empty.
Such a concept often gets a bad rap. It conjures images of bluffing our way through a task. It amplifies the concerns of burnout.
These unsavory outcomes can occur when we run on empty. But they’re only one part of the tapestry.
Many people can run effectively on empty, without the side effects. A mix of preparation and passion can help them sail through, even when they’re not at 100%.
A famous example of this comes from Michael Jordan. The legendary basketball player was already a four-time world champion in June 1997, when his Chicago Bulls battled the Utah Jazz in the National Basketball Association Finals.
The teams had split the first four games of the series, setting up a pivotal Game 5. But on that morning in Utah, Jordan woke up severely ill. Instead of joining the team for the morning practice, Jordan stayed in his hotel room for much of the day. He only arrived at the arena an hour before the game. And he looked incredibly frail.
No one would have faulted Jordan for sitting out the game. But he suited up anyway — and he ended up putting on a performance for the ages. Jordan poured in 38 points, including the game-clinching basket. The Bulls went on to win another championship two nights later.
The “Flu Game” has become an indelible part of Jordan’s legacy. It proved that even when Jordan’s speed, strength, and stamina were stripped away, he could still get the job done. This was a testament to his athletic fundamentals, his competitive spirit, and his love of the game of basketball.
While we might not be Michael Jordan, we also have the ability to make an impact when the odds are stacked against us.
Not long ago, business people routinely battled jet lag to give important presentations halfway around the world. For generations, blue-collar workers have been able to put in long hours, even as their bodies ached. And for millennia, parents facing the roughest of days have managed to remain superheroes for their children.
Of course, these people would much rather be at the top of their game. But when they’ve found themselves far below that level, they’ve adjusted. They’ve been able to run on empty.
A few months before Michael Jordan’s “Flu Game,” I woke up with the stomach flu. After I made a mess in the bathroom, my mother held me out of school.
It took me a couple of days to recover, and I was miserable the whole time. I loathed the fatigue and nausea, of course. But I despised the feeling of helplessness as the world droned on without me.
When I made it back to school, I set a new goal for myself. Perfect attendance moving forward.
And by and large, I managed to achieve that. Over the next decade or so, I only missed a handful of school days. And hardly any were due to illness.
I wasn’t always at my best. But I showed up anyway. And I feel I was better for it.
These days, such a sentiment rings hollow.
Wellness has become a buzzword. And technology has allowed us to filter our persona to our heart’s desire.
Showing up on both the good and bad days no longer has cachet. If anything, it’s viewed as a waste of effort.
Now, not everyone is on board with this airbrushed reality. Some have rebelled against it, rallying behind the phrase If you don’t love me at my worst, you don’t deserve me at my best.
But even this saying is off-kilter. It implies that we should treat mediocrity as an ideal. And that just isn’t true.
Michael Jordan persevered in that “Flu Game” in Utah. But I’m sure he would have much preferred to be at full strength.
The same goes for any of us when we run on empty. We’d prefer a full tank, but we make do with what we’ve got.
It doesn’t take special talent to pull this off. All it takes is a bit of pride in our craft. And a commitment to stick with it through thick and thin.
Our tanks are all empty now.
After a year of illness, job loss, and isolation, we are a shell of what we once were.
It can be tempting to wave the white flag at a time like this. To hibernate until a brighter day emerges.
But such desires are foolish.
There is no escape from what we’ve experienced. The trauma is shared, and it permeates all corners of our existence.
We will only find the light if we do it collectively.
We must stop clinging to the ideal. And we must engage with what’s real instead.
We must run on empty.
Sure, this might feel awkward. But that discomfort is a hurdle we must clear to reach our destination. There is no other way.
So let’s stop bowing out when we’re not our best. Let’s stop looking for the emergency exit at every opportunity.
Running on empty is a feature, not a bug. It’s time we use it to its potential.