"My God, What Have I Done?"

 On the B-HAG and being my own worst enemy

    When I washed up in Minneapolis after Hurricane Katrina, I ended up working for the Minnesota Medical Foundation for four years. The Foundation raised money for the medical school and medical research happening on campus. It was there that I learned about the B.H.A.G. The Big Hairy Audacious Goal. Around the office, people called it the B-HAG. Basically, the B-HAG was the overarching goal that all the fundraisers were working toward. In this case, it was funding for a cancer research center. As you can imagine, you have to hit up a lot of rich people to get together enough cash for something like that. Everyone in the office had a part in this.

    In 2008, we actually attained the B-HAG. There was a big fancy breakfast for us, where they announced that we'd hit the goal with what was the single largest gift the foundation had received to that date ($65m for cancer research from the Masons). It was a great moment to see all the years of work that everyone had put in come to fruition. And then the Foundation president set the next B-HAG. You always have to be working toward something, or you get complacent. 

    Why am I telling you all of this? Because I set myself a B-HAG at the end of 2025 for 2026. Read 25 classic books in one year. And I didn't just say 25 books, I picked 25 of the most arduous classics (at least in my own mind). My partner, B., asked me why I'd do this. My mom asked me why I'd do this. The few friends I told about this asked me why I'd do this. The short answer is that the same week I was reviewing my list of reads from 2025, I read a blog post by Ryan Holiday. "These Are My Reading Rules for 2026," he wrote. The first of his 31 rules reads:

It is not enough that you read. You have to read well. You have to read the right books. You have to figure out how to process and retain and of course apply what you read. As Epictetus said, "I cannot call somebody 'hard-working' knowing only that they read." He said he needed to know what and how they read. He needed to know that their "efforts aim at improving the mind." Because then and only then would he call you "hard-working." Then and only then would he give you the title "reader."

    Pretentious as hell, right? All respect to Ryan and his list (the rest of the rules are actually great), but this little bit of negging is what stuck in my head. I read 97 books in 2025, but could anyone consider them the "right books"? I was doubtful. So, because I still have my moments when I love to hate myself, I decided I would set my B-HAG. Not only would I read the "right books," I'd read so many of them that everyone would be impressed. Part of being your own worst enemy includes needing a gold star for putting yourself through things that you don't have to experience at all. If someone doesn't tell me that I threw myself at this stone wall until I was battered and bloody better than anyone they've ever seen, did it really happen?

    Yesterday, I woke up to a beautiful Saturday morning where I could do anything I wanted. Feeling immediately guilty, I trudged into my office and picked up Ovid's Metamorphoses. I shooed Beanie off my lap so I'd have space for this gigantic book. I sat there and tried to immerse myself in the verse. I got distracted and found myself staring off into space. I was thinking about everything else I could be reading or doing, and by the time B. came to say good morning, I was basically paralyzed. 

    This is unsustainable. Reading is one of the few pleasures left in my life. It's sheer, batshit craziness every morning when I wake up and hear the news. My days at work are spent negotiating the bureaucracy not only of my office, but also the state and federal courts. Simple carbohydrates and reading books I enjoy are two of the only coping methods I can rely upon to get through my perimenopausal days. So, Epictetus and Ryan Holiday can take a flying leap, in this case. I am a reader, because I read. I read widely, and I internalize the things I read. That's enough. I don't need the approval of a long dead Greek philosopher, or a man whose self-created job is to read and discuss said long dead Greek philosophers.

    Without further ado, here is my revised B-HAG. I'm going to read 10 books off the list I put together in December. I can't tell you which ten they will be, because I'm going to pick as I go along. I have a copy of each of them, so I can do this as the mood strikes me. Hopefully, hopping off the Trail of Tears of reading will make me slightly less anxious and terrible to be around. Fingers crossed.