On Your Mark, Get Set... Run!

"It is never wise to run any race but your own." -- Tim Fargo

On July 20, 1996, I ran my very first road race. It was an 8K (4.97 miles), and at 41 years old, I covered the distance in 48:30. At the time I can remember being pleased with the fact I had finished the race, but I was pretty disappointed in the time it took me to do it. I had set a goal to run 8 minute miles and ended up averaging 9:45 instead. Looking back, I can see it was probably an unreasonable goal for an overweight, mostly non-athletic couch potato on the other side of 40.

In fact, it was while I was lying on the couch one Sunday afternoon that I spotted an article about an upcoming road race and a local premier runner who was promoting it. "One of these days", I thought to myself, "I'm going to do something like this." Content in my total non-commitment, I turned the page to finish the article -- and there it was -- a 9 week training schedule.

Still not convinced that this was for me, I looked at the schedule for the first week. It started with a quarter mile run. I knew I couldn't do much, but I did believe I could manage to run at least that far. It also started that very day. In a moment of inspiration, I got off the couch, I cut out the schedule, I laced up my shoes, and headed out the door. Nine weeks later, on what seemed like the hottest night of the summer, I joined hundreds of other runners for the 1996 Road Runner Classic, in Northville, MI. Some 50 minutes later, I knew that a momentary decision, made while relaxing on the couch, would change my life.

Over the next few years, there would be many other races at distances ranging from one mile to 10K. Predictably, my average mile times dropped progressively lower, and I eventually found myself very close to that 8 minute goal. Turns out it wasn't an unreasonable goal, just an unrealistic expectation of what I was capable of doing without logging a whole lot of miles and dealing with the inevitable pains of pushing myself forward. Reality, and no small dose of humility, had a way of reshaping my thinking.

Fast forward almost 21 years. At 62 years old and carrying an additional 40 or more pounds, reality was about to crash through my expectations, once again. Although I had participated in a few races over the last couple years, I had mostly resigned myself to walking and didn't seriously train for the events. My former days of running were now long past and up until this particular race; I hadn't really challenged myself during the training periods. It showed up in my results. This time however, I would train faithfully and in my mind recapture some of my former speed and endurance. It didn't happen.

After 9 weeks of training (27 workouts) and 64 logged miles, I had managed to run one continuous mile exactly one time -- and it wasn't very fast. Plagued by sore muscles, aching joints, labored breathing, and zero weight loss, training was an absolute chore. Yet last Saturday, June 3, 2017, I lined up with my wife, a group from my church, and several members of the community for the Great Bacon 5K Run. I'd love to tell you that I had the race of my life, but the reality is I felt like I was just trying to hold on to it.

Alternating with periods of running and walking we managed to cross the line at 42:46 at an average 13:47 per mile. I had truly given it everything I had. When I could breathe again, I turned to my wife and said "I just ran my last race. I just don't have it anymore." At that moment, I was done. The frustration over past accomplishment and the reality of the present result sat hard on me -- as evidenced in the above photo. Suddenly, it seemed like the years, the minor medical issues, and a traitorous respiratory system had conspired against me. Then something interesting happened.

I noticed that the winner of my age group was also 62 years old and had come in at 24:57 an average 8:03 per mile. I also noticed that the man who finished just behind me was 79 years old. The difference was 3 seconds! Suddenly it wasn't about age after all, but rather about individual ability, mindset -- and perhaps just a bit about lifestyle choices. I don't know the history of either one of these gentleman and it really doesn't make a difference. What matters is that I learned some important things through the experience.

First of all, I learned that at my age, I am probably still capable of significant improvement. I may never see 8 minute miles, but I know someone my age is doing it -- and that is inspiring to me. Secondly, I've learned that I still have some races left in me and I certainly hope someday I'll be that 79 year old nipping at the heels of a 62 year old youngster on the verge of quitting.

I learned that it wasn't the time that mattered -- it was showing up at the starting line and fighting through to the finish line. I learned it wasn't about the quality of the training -- it was about the effort and the consistency in completing each day. Perhaps, most of all, I learned that I am blessed to be able to stand up on these two feet every day and try again -- no matter the result.

So this morning, with great thankfulness, I stepped out onto the road and I started to run some, walk some, and then run some more. There is another race coming up in a few weeks and I want to see if I can improve, just a little.

That's the interesting thing about life, about business, and about opportunity. There's always another race coming up. The question is: Will we be at the starting line? See you there!

Photo Credit: Great Bacon Run Staff

About the Author: Terry Crouson is the Owner and Head Coach at Silver Coach Solutions, LLC and is currently doing business as The Growth Coach of West Metro Detroit. He is dedicated to helping business owners, executives, entrepreneurs, sales professionals, and self-employed professionals find their way by finding their why. He is a highly respected business coach, speaker, facilitator, and community builder. Terry is certified in the Strategic Mindset Process, and is also a DISC Certified Behavioral Consultant.