Epiphany from an 800 meter dash gone wrong

I was considered a hotshot, top 10 in the state, captain of my track team. I had always been a good athlete, but I was a phenomenal runner. I often think that god gave me one gift and that was to run. It just comes easy to me. However, like most senior students, I was distracted by the excitement of completing high school and the antics that come with being a teenager with increasing amounts of freedom.?

Near the end of the season, we had a track meet at a school way, way, way, way up in Maine. I had been out partying the night before, and I was beat. I remember the track was disheveled, the stands were falling apart and the team we were competing against were a little rough around the edges. But what I really remember was a kid next to me on the starting line wearing a pair of flat bottomed knock-off Air Jordan basketball shoes. I thought to myself, “man this is going to be a cake walk”. The gun went off and I darted out to the front. But, after one lap I could hear one competitor behind me, I kept hearing the footsteps of those flat bottomed shoes, slapping like a pair of flip flops on the track behind me. Clink, Clump, Clink Clump, Clink, Clump. I kept thinking I am going to leave this kid in the dust, but I couldn’t separate. I couldn’t get to the next gear. Two times around the track and I win the race, but only by a few seconds. The sound of those high top basketball shoes banging on the track haunts me to this day.

On the bus ride home, I began to think about what had transpired. My lack of focus caused me to struggle during a race that should have accelerated my progress to the state title. I felt awful and I never wanted to feel that way again. If I was going to make state championships, something needed to change. I needed to do more. I needed to focus. I needed to shut out the distractions, the parties, all the graduation noise. That night when we arrived home I jumped off the bus and buried the stupid ribbon they gave me for first place. I knew my performance was not worthy of any distinction. I was embarrassed, but more importantly I was determined.

I had about four weeks to train hard, get focused and earn a spot in the state championship. I believe we had lost our long distance coach so I asked some of the graduates I ran with the previous year who were coming home from college to work out with me. We put a program together and for the next four weeks I focused on training. I challenged the guys that if I was running 400 meter sprints I wanted to sprint against two of them, sprinting their best 200 meters.

With this new found determination and hard work, my times came down, I gained momentum and I started to feel like all the hard work was going to pay off. I even skipped post-prom festivities (sorry Larissa) because the qualifying regional meet was the next day, and this time, I was bound and determined to show up prepared. And boy did I ever. I came in first or second and secured a spot in the state finals one week later.

The day of the state finals arrived.?

We lined up for the race. Bang went the gun. We take off and I head out with the lead pack. We got through the first 400 in just under a minute and after rounding the turn on the back of the track, I decided to give it my all. I started sprinting like the finish line was just in front of me. I sped out into the lead and one other runner gave chase. By the time we hit the final 200 we were about 25-50 yards ahead of everyone else. The finish line started closing in, 100 yards left. We start to slow but we pushed each other with all we had, exchanging one step leads.

50 yards left.

40.

30.

20.?

10 yards from the finish line, my competitor begins to pull ahead. I try to find the energy, try to get that one step back, maybe, if I lean forward I could gain some momentum…but instead…

Bang! My face hits the pavement. I blacked out.

I rise up… and lunge over the finish line in 6th.?

WTF! Here I am, I’ve worked harder than ever, I’ve made sacrifices to succeed, and I still lost. I could have run a 1:58. If I didn’t black out I could have come in 2nd. I mean there are a lot of what if’s with this result. I left it all out there on the track. Literally, I think there must still be some blood and skin on that track.

So, losing the race stung, a lot. To tell you the truth I haven’t talked about it much in the past 20 years. But I was awarded a valuable life lesson, you cannot win in any race. Effort and success are not always linked. Sometimes, life may throw a curveball? — or in my case a blackout? — when we least expect it, and when it does we need to continue to push up, show up and rise up. I think I learned that the effort was what mattered. The commitment was what mattered. The attitude was what mattered. Because without it I wouldn’t be writing this post. I wouldn’t have made the finals and surely wouldn’t have a story to tell.

Success in business and life should be measured not solely by what we accomplish but also by how we conduct ourselves, our ability to adapt, recover from setbacks, and recognize new opportunities. In other words, success is not a linear path upward or to the top of some podium.

For me, even though my career is now tech focused, my outlook on success began when I ran and most epically lost the 800 meter dash during my senior year of high school.