Anyone who runs marathons will tell you that they generally hit their wall and feel like they’ve run out of juice between miles 18 and 20. After that point, it’s pure heart and adrenaline that will get the runner over the finish line. So it seems like cruel and unusual punishment for the planners of the BMW Dallas Marathon to place a backbreaking hill at the tail end of mile 20, leaving runners with jelly for legs for the last five-plus miles.
In their defense, the marathon creators didn’t
put the hill there—it just happened to be strategically located along the edge
of Tokalon Park. Nonetheless, there it was—a one-third mile hill with a good 6%
to 7% pitch. Ouch!
I had a bird’s-eye view of it this past Sunday
when my daughter Callie competed in the marathon.
It was fascinating to watch the variety of
ways the competitors approached the hill. Based on my focus group of two
(Callie’s and my experiences with hills during running and bike races), I’m
going to go out on a ledge and say that their approaches are not far off from
how they approach life.
Don’t believe me? Do you recognize yourself in
any of the basic styles of hill climbers that I observed?
Charge
up. Push harder…fight harder…nothing’s going to
stop me, sucka. It’s Rocky on the stairs. This is the same group that
sprints through the finish line just so they know they can always dig a little deeper.
This would be my Callie through and through.
Slow
and steady wins the race. Smart…thoughtful…planned…careful.
Curiously, older people tended to fall into this category as though their
experience on Earth (and with running) tells them that if they just keep going
and stay the course, they will make it through. One foot, then the other, then
the other. They may not set the world on fire, but these lieutenants will
definitely get the job done.
Preserve
energy. A lot like the slow-and-steady crowd but a
little more thoughtful in their desire to not run out of steam. When challenges
strike, they slow down a little and trudge through. They don’t want to quit,
and they don’t want to walk…but they sure as heck need a moment to assess, regroup
and dig deep to face this challenge. If they go down, it won’t be without a
fight.
Walk it
out. They are not ready to quit…not ready to fight. There
is no dishonor in the walk, especially at mile 20 when you need to be sure you
will make it to the homestretch. This is a careful bunch, always alert to the
risks around the corner. The question for this group—what do you do at the top
of the hill? Keep walking? Drag along? Decide enough is enough? Or rediscover
your fight now that you’ve caught your breath?
I’ve
had enough. The hill took many victims. Callie
observed that there were fewer runners on the course after the hill (she is
still looking for the stats on how many runners started versus how many
finished.) Meanwhile, these brave racers made it for more than 20 miles and now
faced the hardest point of the race. After the hill, the last five miles are
downhill. Injuries aside, why would you quit now? It could have been the call
of the beer truck…or inadequate preparation. For me, barring risk for serious
injury, when you’ve made it this far and are looking at coasting home, why
would you give up the opportunity to say, “I did it” and to know deep in your
heart that you mastered that challenge, even if it meant walking the last few
miles. Worse yet, what does the act of quitting do for future challenges? It’s
always easy to quit, but it is surprisingly hard to live with the regrets of
having made that choice.
There is one more behavior that cut across all
hill-climbing styles…
Curse
it out. This category crossed running styles, but I
think it bears attention. I can’t tell you how many versions of “This hill
sucks” we heard while standing at the top. People of all ages and all fitness
levels muttered under their breath or blurted right out an “F*** you” to the
mountain that a competitor had just beaten. Cursing the hill was cathartic for
those who silently raged at the audacity of having to deal with that large hill
at that point in the race. That’s very similar to how most of us feel when our
energy is flagging and we are asked to dig deep for one more challenge. Once
conquered, however, releasing that pent-up frustration from the fight clears
the air and allows us to refocus our energy on the next task—in this case,
completing the race.
Six miles later, I watched as Callie, legs on
fire, rounded the final corner and sprinted the last 100 meters to the finish,
a broad smile on her face showing how proud she was of her accomplishment. As
they were on the hill, her fellow finishers were a mix of sprinters,
steady-pacers and those who were just grateful they had made it to the end.
No matter the style, they were all warriors who conquered the hill!
Sarah Hiner, president and CEO of Bottom Line Inc., is passionate about giving people the tools and knowledge they need to be in control of their lives in areas such as living a healthier life, the challenges of the health-care system, commonsense financial advice and creating great relationships. She appears often on national radio and hosts the Bottom Line Advocator Podcast, where she interviews leading experts to help people be their own best advocates in all areas of life.