My high school experience back in the 1980’s was a bit odd, in quite a few ways. For one, it was an almost brand new school when I got there. It was a new public exam/magnet school and for various reasons, they the district decided to just let in one class at a time. So, the first year, there were just freshman. The second year, that first class rose to be sophomores and my class joined. It wasn’t until it’s fourth year that we had seniors, and that first class was the top class their entire high school careers.
I was on a competitive team from my freshman year, and there were two real stars in the class above me, but they took very different paths with very different strengths. One was rock steady, always doing what he could do, without mistakes. The other was more mercurial, with more brilliant moments mixed in with too frequent mistakes.
Now, both of them were excellent. But one was steady at a high level, and the other had more variation from meet to meet. Sometimes James exceeded Peter, but sometimes James fell short.
Throughout our high school years, Peter raised his level. He remained consistent, not making mistakes. But he did that a higher level of performance each year. Through those years, he nearly caught up to James’s peaks. Similarly, James also improved. But for James, improvement had to mean addressing those mistakes. Through those years, he nearly caught up to Peter’s consistency.
Back then, I thought that I was more like James. I wanted to be more like James. I wanted to reach those heights, and I did not yet realize that James and Peter were converging. I saw them embodying two contrasting archetypes. And I certainly did not appreciate the value of consistency or of simply not making mistakes.
It was not until late in college that I really started to appreciate that James was not better than Peter. I did not understand the value of reliability — particularly when that reliability comes with a high level of performance. Yes, I still see value in moments of peak brilliance, but I value consistently far more than I used to.
Consistently avoiding mistakes that you are capable of avoiding individually requires a kind of focus that I did not have as a teenager. While I have gotten better, it is still sometimes hard for me. Whatever the reasons, it does not come easy to me in any domain.
As a adult, I see incredibly value in avoiding downsides, potholes and mistakes. I see reliable contributions from colleagues, reliable friends and reliable recipes. The staples of our lives, of our work, of our pantries are so under-appreciated. Delivering every day and being able to count on them make everything else so very much easier.
This was true on my high school math team. The most thoughtful football analysts say it is true of running backs, too. It is an under appreciated kind of excellence.