One of my favorite graphs from high school calculus had a nickname. We called her Gertrude. I have no idea why.

The graph came from a simple equation:

When you draw it, the curve gets closer and closer to zero, but it never quite gets there. No matter how far you follow the line, there is always a tiny gap remaining. In mathematics, that line is called an asymptote.

At the time, it was just something to remember for a test.

Lately, I've been thinking about Gertrude.

Have you ever noticed how goals work? You spend months chasing one. Sometimes years. You finally reach it, enjoy the feeling for a while, and then find yourself thinking about the next one.

A faster race. A healthier weight. A stronger business. A new challenge.

For a long time, I thought there was something wrong with that. Why couldn't I just be satisfied? Why did every finish line seem to lead to another starting line?

Now I think I was asking the wrong question.

Maybe the goal was never to arrive. Maybe the goal was to have something worthwhile pulling you forward.

The same thing happens with health. There is no day where you wake up and declare victory. No finish line where you become permanently healthy. There is only the daily work of eating well, sleeping well, moving your body, and doing it again tomorrow.

I think the same is true for parenting, friendships, marriage, and most things that matter. You don't complete them. You practice them.

Maybe that's why Gertrude has stuck with me all these years.

The asymptote is never reached.

You don't arrive.

You just keep getting closer.

Happy running!