When I was young, I loved going for a trail(小路) run. It was my favorite way to escape stress. So, when I was back in my hometown after a tough first year of my Ph. D. program, I thought a trail run was just what I needed. But instead of helping me relax, the run did just the opposite.
After I moved to the city for college, where my runs were on flat concrete paths instead of winding dirt trails, I used a GPS watch. When I went for a trail run again in the country, the watch constantly reminded me of the fact that I wasn't keeping up my usual pace. I turned my watch off, thinking that would allow me to enjoy my surroundings and find the peace I expected, but I still worried that I was underperforming. "Why can't I let go and just enjoy myself?" I wondered. After some introspection(反省), I realized why I was struggling — both on trail runs and in graduate school.
When starting my Ph.D., I had thought that my solid postgraduate track record would set me up for instant success. To my surprise, I was wrong. I lacked confidence in my research abilities which I thought stopped me performing well and I constantly felt my progress was too slow. Other students' self-confidence and their excellent results made me feel insecure. Finally, one day I broke down in tears in my tutor's office.
Then came my visiting home. I was having trouble because I hadn't properly adjusted my expectations to the differences between an urban run and a trail run.
A Ph. D. is like a trail run. Sometimes you can run fast. Sometimes you might find yourself climbing up a steep, winding trail at a snail's pace. But that's OK. Barriers are unavoidable, and success looks and feels different on a challenging trail than it does on a smooth, flat path.
Sometimes it's best to take a deep breath and do your best to meet the challenge.
