I won a marathon last weekend. Certainly didn’t have that on the ol’ 2024 Goals List.
This is neither a humble brag nor an attempt at false humility. Plainly and simply, there was a race, I’d trained hard, and that was the result. Now, two things can both be true:
It is true that I finished first, and I am extremely proud of that achievement. It’s a badge of honor which I’ll happily own without apology.
What is also true is that there were only 29 athletes competing in the marathon distance of this particular event. Transfer my 3:25:16 finishing time over to the recent ‘24 Chicago Marathon and it would have been good enough for 9,902nd place overall.
That said, this wasn’t Chicago. It was The Rails-to-Trails Extravaganza in Ottawa, KS (population 12,686). The race was expertly hosted on a scenic trail, blessed with perfect autumn weather (41 degrees and sunny at the start), and needed a champion. I, as it turns out, was well qualified to serve that role.
This is a reflection of three key lessons I earned & learned before, during and after that experience:
1. Prepare To Get What You Deserve.
After every race I’ve finished in recent memory, when asked by friends & family how it went, my response is: “I did exactly as well as I deserved to do.” This event was no exception, and I don’t mean the podium placement, but rather, the performance itself.
As I prepared for the Rails-To-Trails Marathon, 4:30am training runs with faster-than-me teammates became the norm. A steady diet of weekday morning 10-milers, combined with a Sober October, built a strong engine. Conversely, too little stretching and too much ice cream detracted a bit from peak performance and resulted in some painful late miles. Mix the good with the bad and I got exactly what I deserved. No shame, no blame.
In my experience, folks tend to get what they deserve from a performance perspective.
“Getting what you deserve” has a negative connotation. But shift the paradigm:
What about when someone pours their heart into a project and crushes the presentation?
Exercises & eats with discipline and looks great on vacation?
Role plays client objections for hours and then lands a whale?
Grows their company and their people passionately for years and then earns a huge exit?
In each of those cases, I’d argue that the person got exactly what they deserved.
In a nutshell, I suppose that’s what I love most about both endurance sports and business:
At the moment of truth – whatever that moment may be – we get to strip away social labels and simply see how prepared each of us are to lay put our best on display. Winners win.
The people that prepare themselves best in the dark are most capable to perform under the brightest lights.
2. Do Unto Yourself As You Would Do Unto Others.
I can go to a dark place mentally with the best of ‘em. It’s not a great trait, but it’s real. Negative self-talk, comparison, second-guessing, etc.
As the miles wore on, though, I talked to myself the way that I talk to my kids. Or the student-athletes I coach. Or clients. And when I say “talked,” it was literally out loud:
“You’ve trained for this. Trust it. Hang in there. One mile at a time. It’s worth it. This is what champions do. Earn this crown. I’m proud of you.”
That last one – combined with 3+ hours of energy sapping exertion – brought actual tears to my eyes. It was a great reminder, though: Talk to myself the same way that I talk to the people I love, respect, and serve.
I deserve it, because I fit that exact bill.
3. When It’s Your Time To Take The Lead, Do It Like You Mean It.
The route for this race was a simple out & back. We ran south for 12 miles, flipped around and ran 14.2 miles north back to the finish. This mapping makes it very simple to know who’s in front of, and behind you.
With roughly ¾ mile to go until the turnaround point, the race leader passed me heading the opposite direction. He looked strong. Two minutes later, the second-place runner did the same, also appearing under control. I knew exactly where I was compared to my competition; it was time to go to work.
Mile 14 was run at 7:16 pace and momentum is building.
Mile 15 was at 7:20 pace and now I’m into 2nd.
Mile 16 at 7:26 pace with no looking back.
Mile 17 at 7:23 pace with Ludacris lyrics stuck in my head.
Mile 18 at 7:26 pace and the water bottle is on E.
Then, two things happened during Mile 19:
First, I began to seriously run out of steam. There’s a Kinesiology based description of this phenomenon which uses words like glycogen and lactic acid. I’m a public-school guy, so here’s my version: hamstrings on fire, left knee yelling at me, right calf quite angry, upper back inexplicably tight, and the overall vibe was “I’m so over this.”
The second thing that happened: I saw the leader. A dot in the distance, but unmistakable.
Mile 19 at 8:18 pace and everything hurts.
Mile 20 at 8:31 pace, including a pit stop to refill the water bottle.
Mile 21 at 8:20 pace and the leader’s 100 yards away.
Mile 22 at 9:13 pace and it’s time to take the lead in a marathon.
No hyperbole here: this moment wasn’t overly poetic or even remotely fluid from a running form perspective, but it was purposeful and definitive.
From 10 yards away, I held back a moment, gulped some water, and summoned what little strength remained. Lengthening my stride as much as my quads would allow, I pulled even.
Pleasantries were exchanged at 158 beats per minute. “Nice…job…man.” “Thanks…you…too.”
Then, the tiniest of accelerations. Not heroic. My pace at this point was a full two minutes slower per mile than it had been at 8am that morning, but it was effective. I’m leading.
Mile 23 at 8:58 pace and pulling away.
Mile 24 at 9:07 pace and all alone with that self-talk.
Mile 25 at 9:00 pace and I’m the dot in somebody else’s distance.
Mile 26 at 9:06 pace and the attitude is pure gratitude.
Mile 26.2 is a blur of pure exhaustion mixed with sweet relief and someone’s ringing an oversized cowbell and now there’s a medal around my neck and a golden railroad spike trophy in my hand and fist bumps for the other guys when they cross the line and then limping to my car to drive back on-course to cheer for my amazing wife while she finishes as the 2nd overall female and then tears and hugs and a massage and a cold soda and the most delicious PB&J of all time…
Eventually, later, comes the clarity of some very valuable life lessons that could only be earned through this painfully special, and completely unexpected, lived experience:
Work extremely hard when no one’s looking, even with no expectation of being called upon to lead.
Leading at the end is harder, and more important, than leading at the beginning.
When it’s your time to take the lead, do it respectfully, but unapologetically and with confidence.
When stepping to the lead, accelerate the pace. Do something with the position. Work even harder and be prepared to fight like crazy to hold onto it.
Leading will be lonely. Fortify your mind, body, and spirit for the tough times ahead.
Be grateful for the struggle. Being on the sidelines would hurt more than being in the race ever will.
Be quick to go back and help others get to the finish of their own marathon.
