Midterms, Mental Miles, and Showing Up Anyway

How I’m measuring progress without the stopwatch

Midterms are around the corner, and like most UC Davis students right now, I’m somewhere between caffeine-fueled optimism and a full-blown mental cramp.

This is my little breather between sprints.

In running, progress is usually clear: you go farther, faster, stronger. But in school? In life? Progress feels more abstract—more like fog than finish lines.

So lately, I’ve started asking myself:

How do I measure growth when there's no stopwatch?

The quarter system doesn’t wait for anyone—it moves fast, like a race with no warm-up jog. And somehow, we’re already halfway there. I feel like I just opened my textbooks, and now I’m suddenly calculating how many points I need on my next exam to survive.

And while I’ve been checking assignments off like a caffeinated squirrel, I’ve also been thinking: how do you track progress when there’s no finish line in sight?

I’m a runner. I like numbers. I like results. I like crossing things off and seeing the time drop or the pace improve. But school isn’t like that. Life isn’t really like that either. There’s no medal ceremony for turning in your second discussion post of the week, or for remembering to do the reading instead of watching dance moms edits on Instagram Reels.

So I’ve been finding new ways to define progress.

Like the fact that I’ve gone to office hours twice already this quarter, even though I overthink literally everything I say. Or that I’ve been asking more questions in class, even if my voice shakes a little. Or that I actually wrote out my notes by hand this week, because apparently I absorb more information when I’m not typing on a cracked iPhone screen.

Progress, lately, looks like effort. Not perfection.

Not every run is fast. Not every week is graceful. Some days I show up at the gym and just walk on the treadmill. Some days, the biggest win is putting on real pants for my roommate (sorry Michelle). Some days, it’s texting my mom instead of spiraling alone.

But I’m showing up. And that counts for something.

This quarter hasn’t been easy. There have been messy notes and missed alarms and a few too many “oops, I forgot to eat” days. But there’s also been growth—quiet, steady growth I don’t always notice in the moment.

So, if you’re feeling behind or overwhelmed or like you’re sprinting in place:

You’re not alone.

You’re running your own race.

You’re making your own pace.

And honestly? You’re crushing it, even if your legs (or brain) feel like Jell-O.

Finish lines aren’t the only sign of success.

Sometimes, still running is the biggest win.

Keep showing up. I’m proud of you.

— Sarah Grace

Tired. Trying. Still running