Our Limits Don't Exist

They're Only in our Heads

“Are our psychological barriers real or an imagination of our mind?”

This was the debate being played out in a podcast. Everyone was giving their opinion and… but I wasn’t listening anymore. Lost in thoughts.

While everyone was making arguments, I was navigating through my different memories. Trying to validate or invalidate their theories.

After several minutes lost in the mind’s realm. I’ve come to the conclusion that we’re our own worst fans. Many of us think we’re incapable.

We don’t celebrate our victories. We focus on our defeats. While minimizing our victories. Many of us don’t believe in ourselves. 

Our goals seem unattainable. The stairway too high for us. A whole series of mental gymnastics that place limits on our abilities. Boundaries to our realms.

When we know we have to believe in ourselves to get there. By not believing. We become the architects of our failures. We turn self-fulfilling prophecies into reality.

Just this morning. I was reading a blogpost by Sam Altmann (ceo of OpenAI). The topic: “How to be successful.” And his second point: “Have almost too much self-belief.”

A point I’ve made many times in my writing. Everyone I know, who’s had wild success… are almost delusional about their abilities. 

We keep coming back to this snake biting its own tail issue. 

You put limits on yourself. 
You get nowhere.
You believe in yourself. 
You succeed.

But how can start to believe in yourself? How can you stop setting limits? Putting words to the problem is fine. But how do you solve it?

It won’t be through mental exercises. It will be through action. We’re going to have to face up to our limits.

Only by visiting these limits can we discover who we are. What we’re really capable of.

The moment that made me realize that my own limits don’t exist was a point when I went beyond what I thought were my limits.
And… I was still there. Going beyond our limits doesn’t break us. It hurts. But we’re alive. In a zone we thought was out of reach.

The story is simple. One day, on a whim. I signed up for a race. I didn’t know what I was getting myself into. I’ve always been impulsive. I’d been jogging a lot for about a year. I saw a race in my feed. Little lights went on: “Why not?!”

If I’d known what I was up against, I’m sure I wouldn’t have started. My jogging sessions were always long, monotonous runs… During the day, flat, sunny. No difficulties. I never exceeded 12 kilometers. 

I didn’t even realize that it was a bad idea to take on around 30 kilometers when you’ve never done 15. Maths was simple in my mind. It was what I often did x3. Hard. But surmountable.

I knew the race was going to take place in nature. But “nature” for me was a bonus. It meant a long walk in the woods. I thought of it as a quiet, regenerative stroll in the heart of the wilderness. 

I had no idea that I was going to find myself on bridges, hills, mountain trails, crossing rivers, climbing rocks, trying not to get lost… All in almost complete darkness. 

The only light being the little torch on my helmet. Which I’d never tried before. I was to discover to my horror that it illuminated almost nothing. A tiny point of light in a shade of darkness I’d never experienced.

After an hour and a half in a little purgatory. I seriously ask myself: “Why?” I’m angry with myself. I should have done more research. I should have known what to expect. Knowing it wasn’t for me. 

A few kilometers further on. I can’t run anymore. Impossible to maintain even a light pace. My legs exhausted by incessant ascents and descents in a hostile natural environment. One of the volunteers wants to cheer me up: “You’re at the halfway point!”

I don’t know if he read the despair in my face. The information hits my brain. Thoughts jumble. I repeat to myself, “Half?” Then an insult that I can’t reproduce here.

At that moment, giving up crossed my mind. I face a problem that seems insoluble. There’s still half the distance to cover. My strength: not looking good. But I don’t want to disappoint my family, who know I’m taking part. I don’t want to have to look at them and say, “That was too hard for me.”

The deeper truth. I don’t want to disappoint myself. I’ve already done a lot of things I’ll regret for the rest of my life. I don’t want to add another one.

A strategy must be adopted. It will be to walk. Run. Walk. Run. Alternating 30-second cycles. About an hour later, purgatory has turned into hell. The area above the limit is where even thoughts can no longer organize themselves. 

It’s chaos. The path is a kind of war zone. The further I go, the more runners I find lying on the ground. Exhausted by the previous trials. Resting on the ground. Sorry. I wish I could help them. But I know: “If I stop, it’s all over”.

They’ll have to find the strength to face their demons. To probe deep inside themselves for the extra soul that will make them stand on their own two feet. There’s nothing I can do but keep going.

New checkpoint: about 5 kilometers to go. 
It doesn’t seem like much. I haven’t been able to run for several kilometers now. I can only walk. But knowing there are 5 kilometers to go changes something. It’s as if a new energy takes hold of me. I motivate myself by saying: “5 kilometers, I’ll be proud and I’ll never do that again”.

I’m not going to tell you that I finished in a sprint. Because I didn’t. But the unbearable pain became bearable. I even enjoyed the end of the race. Impossible to speak. Impossible to organize thoughts. Wandering in the now, putting one step in front of the other. 

Other runners try to initiate conversations. Inwardly, it’s “Please. Leave me alone.” My nods make it clear that I can’t converse in words. Dialogues are exchanges of glances.

“I’m suffering.”
“Only a few miles to go. We’ll make it.”
A small smile flashes, nonverbal communication takes over.

Close to the finish line. I surprise myself picking up the pace. Running. Crossing the finish line. The pain has evaporated. Joy. Laughter. Congratulations. A unique moment I’ll never forget. And pride that I didn’t give up when I thought I couldn’t anymore.

Me, few hours earliers, who kept telling myself “Never again.”
The next day, I was already thinking: “What an adventure. When’s the next one? I’ve got to go further, higher.”

The pain is temporary. The joy of success is eternal.

I learned two lessons that day: 

• Be prepared, it’s not a game. I should have practiced a lot more before jumping in. It was an error of judgment.

• Our limits are not our limits. They’re mental projections. We are capable of a lot more. 

This moment now serves as an anchor for me. In all the things I do in my life. When I’m exhausted. When I think I can’t go on. I think back to that moment. I remind myself it’s a physical sensation. It’s not real. We’re much more resilient than we think. 

I’ve built this whole blogpost to get to this point.
How can we know our limits if we never explore them?! 
The barriers we set for ourselves. What are they based on? 
We create our own limitations, yet we never visit our extreme zones. 

Want to explode your limits?
Challenge yourself.
Break your record.
Make the effort uncomfortable. 
Feel you’re tapping into your reserves.

Every week. Try to get out of your comfort zone.
Do you work out? 
Go beyond your known zones.

Working on a project? 
Give it your all.

Playing a sport or doing an art?
Enter a competition. A contest.

Want to start a hobby?
Don't wait any longer, do it.

Train to the edge of your comfort zone.

And when you discover your resilience.
You’ll realize.
You’re much stronger than you think.
You can do much more than you think.

Your limits will become your expected results. 
You’ll expand your territory. 
Your fears will turn into conquered territory.
You’ll gain self-confidence.

And the greater your confidence.
The greater your achievements.

Take care.

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A tiny message to all those who leave comments. Thank you. I can't always answer. I lack time. These blog post takes hours to build. I tend to disconnect after writing. But I read all your comments with great enthusiasm. You keep this newsletter alive. Thank You !