A few weeks ago an 8th grader kicked my ass.

Around mile 4 on a 6 mile run, I noticed someone about to pass me over my right shoulder.

Before I knew it, a young boy who looked around Middle School age, flew by me, his scrawny legs and lanky frame in tight form propelling him forward.

I waited about 100 yards before turning on the jets and picking up my pace, confident I could run him down.

I was clocking a pace under 8 minutes per mile—significantly faster than my typical 8:30-8:45 pace. After a half mile, I could tell he was getting further away, not closer to me.

My enthusiasm faded as my breathing became heavy and my legs sluggish. My mind jumped at the chance— He must be doing 7:30s, I thought. Similar thoughts piled on telling me it was over and there was no way I was catching him.

The distance between him and I continued to increase and I slowed back to my normal pace, lowering my head in disappointment.

This is all fun and games for me, and something I do regularly as part of what I call spontaneous goal setting—a potent, "in the moment tool" I use to combat anxiety.

Many people set goals in one way or another, but few set them spontaneously and in my view, those who don’t are missing out on self improvement gold.

What makes a goal spontaneous?

Simply that it wasn't predetermined before a specific moment of inspiration.

The open secret and secret weapon that anxiety uses is the element of surprise. It feasts on the unknown to catch us off guard.

As humans we want predictable outcomes, so the uncertainty magnified by anxious thinking pushes us into resistance towards whatever is happening.

To counteract that, I’ve learned I can purposely interject uncertainty and unexpectedness into my day to train myself on overcoming, thus building confidence that I can handle those situations.

When it comes to running, the two main ways I do that are speed and running people down.

Running people down simply means catching up to someone on the road. Sometimes I've even caught bikers going uphill.

Speed simply means trying to "medal". Spontaneously deciding to try and finish with a top 3 speed for a 5k, 10k, or in some cases. 10+ miler. (Medal as in "gold", "silver", or "bronze").

Over the weekend, I completed my fastest half marathon time ever. This wasn't a city sponsored race, a charity event, or a well-known half marathon with cheering crowds and support crews.

This triumphant milestone took place in the same park where I run every weekend. And it wasn't planned.

Every weekend I run at least 10 miles. For most of this year, my runs end there too. But sometimes, I choose to go further. Last weekend was one of those days.

I've run dozens of half marathons over the years, most of which are pre-planned and some of which are with friends or family.

This particular run started like any other. I felt good, not "fastest half of my life" good, but solid.

Suddenly the voice from my tracking app interrupted the podcast I was listening to with a distance and pace count. "7.2 miles…" I was surprised that I had gone that far.

It felt like I was only 4-5 miles in, but the fact that I was already past 7 triggered a spontaneous thought.

"You should do a half today."

You may have had a similar experience to this, but the story usually stops there. We quickly dismiss the thought of doing something unexpected in favor of the comfortable known of what was planned.

Not for me.

I don't have the luxury of resting on my laurels since I know I will be tested by anxiety in the same way that spontaneous goals arise out of nowhere.

I quickly checked my pace and realized I was just under 8:30 per mile. Fast for me.

"If you keep this pace you can do your fastest half too."

And that was that.

My entire focus became finishing not only a half marathon, but doing it in the fastest time I had ever done.

Because of my experience with previous attempts at spontaneous goals, I've become accustomed to dealing with the next phase in the process—doubt.

After committing to the goal, I needed to stay locked in through the next 6 miles. I actively kept my confidence high that I would complete the task, while dismissing any thoughts arising that were counter to that narrative.

If you let it, the tornado of thoughts the mind presents trying to convince you to throw in the towel, will derail your conviction and convince you to not even try.

And you will fail at a few, some, or most of your spontaneous goals if they're set properly (see "8th grader kicks my ass" at the top of the page).

But that's why spontaneous goals are such a potent training tool—they mimic the real world because they are the real world.

Other anxiety tools are theoretical. Performed only under certain perfectly curated circumstances, or in a "safe space" where you can plan or use an always-present eject button.

But anxiety doesn't give a shit if you're prepared for a visit. Once the right external circumstances present themselves, it's crashing the party no matter what you think, say, or do—without bringing any bourbon or wine.

So prepare like you're playing the f*cking game of your life. Because you are.

There is no time to waste and there will never be a day when it gets easier on its own. You must take action. You must become an anxiety practitioner.

I went on to complete the fastest half marathon of my life that day beating my previous time by a full 5 minutes, clocking 8:24 per mile for 13.1 miles.

After I finished, I lay in the grass and celebrated the win briefly. Then I picked myself up, thought to myself "nice work", and walked back to the car, proud to have another spontaneous goal rep under my belt.

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