The context:
My husband, Scott, ran his very first marathon this past weekend in Lake Placid. My brother, Conrad, is also a runner. More to the point, he always has advice and, if he cares about you, he shares it.
Appreciating how difficult it is to run long distances, my brother sent Scott a motivational email prior to race day. In addition to pre-race breakfast suggestions like eating condensed chicken soup and pancakes (really, Con?) and the need to pick out a hidden tree so as to avoid long port-a-potty lines, Conrad addressed the mental game that all runners must deal with.
My favorite advice:
Watch the jiggling rear of the woman in front of you. Sure, there was the more traditional counsel of trying to figure out how long it would take my other brother to get sunburned on the family trip to the beach this summer; or making sure to not even allow the tiniest bit of negativity to enter the mind. But this piece of wisdom just captured my imagination. Clearly.
The result:
It turns out that Conrad’s specific jiggle advice wasn’t what proved to be most helpful. The Lake Placid Marathon is only 5 years old and, as such, only had about 300 people complete the entire 26.2 miles. The other 2,000 participants ran the half-marathon or dropped out. Once the half-marathoners headed toward the finish line and the marathoners turned around for their second 13-mile lap, the road was a lonely one. When I saw Scott at the 20-mile checkpoint, he was running solo. There was no jiggle to be had.
The analogy:
On the long drive home from Lake Placid, I was sharing with Scott how I can become overwhelmed in my business. Get There From Here has grown steadily since I hung my shingle 2.5 years ago and I find that being a one-woman operation is growing old. I sometimes feel like I’m at mile 20, with no one else around and all I notice is the burn in my quads and the way my shirt keeps chafing my neck.
So I asked Scott how he did it. Having never run further than 20 miles and having trained for a mountain race on the flat streets of Philadelphia, how did he convince himself to keep going? To not even break for a walk?
Turns out Scott did watch the jiggle – when it was around. He also tried to calculate how long it would take for that other brother to get sunburned on the beach. But mostly, he refused to entertain even the tiniest negative thought. The moment one showed up, he did as Conrad suggested and replaced it with something positive.
The takeaway:
I’ve decided to refocus. The burning quads and chafing shirt are simply part of the deal. It’s what I signed up for when I decided to start my own business with no prior experience. But there are people out there with funny signs that say things like “watch the jiggle.” And there’s the fact that I’ve managed to grow a business in this economy. And there are my amazing clients. And there’s that abiding sense of satisfaction. And . . .
Tags: commitment, focus, goals, running
YOU ARE AMAZING!
Thanks, Meg! You do realize, of course, that I didn’t actually RUN the marathon, right?
Thanks Jennifer…I like the message and needed it today!
Scott IS a rock star — and you are both an inspiration to me!
Great reading, thanks. And, congrats to Scott, something I’d never do.
Kelley – glad it hit the spot (and sorry about your crappy day).
Maria – we’ll expect to hear about that bike race!
Donna – thanks and I’ll pass on the congrats.
Actually, one would think that a marathon runner wouldn’t have any jiggle to speak of. Isn’t that the reason they run?
Jim – not sure about all the reasons for marathon running, but I image reduced “jiggle” is a part of it for many! ; )