We celebrate those who persevere for the long haul. We admire marathon runners and Ironman triathletes for their athletic perseverance. We respect PhDs and medical doctors for their academic perseverance. But sometimes staying in it for the long haul isn’t so commendable.
For example, I still watch Grey’s Anatomy. I used to love this show. The characters took me on a roller coaster of emotions and left me craving the next episode. But after 1o seasons, it’s just not that compelling. As I was watching the two-hour season premiere, it felt like forever.
So why am I still watching? For some reason, I’m in it for the long haul. I feel like I’m invested in the characters and want to see how it ends.
I do the same thing with books. I don’t think I’ve ever intentionally not finished a book. (Although, I left one in the seat pocket on an airplane once, which made finishing it difficult.)
Even though I’m supposed to be reading for pleasure, I keep reading despite a lack of pleasure. I suffer through until the end.
Maybe it will get better. Maybe the end pulls everything together. Generally, it doesn’t. But I still feel compelled to finish.