15 lessons I never knew I'd learn from running a marathon - Part I

I am wearing the smirk of the cat that got the cream and the plump cushion in a brilliant ray of sunlight; the fighting fish that has his very own wave pool, and plastic weed; the dog whose human is a perpetual ball-throwing machine.

Okay, you get it; I’m pretty chuffed. I ran a marathon.

And because I’m so chuffed that I completed a marathon I am going to regale you with comparisons between my sporting achievement and the business world and life in general.

It’s going to be a long haul, so I’ve divided it into three parts. Still, you might need a snack so I’ll pause while you get coffee and a donut.

Right then, let's begin at the beginning . . .

You may know that the first person to run a marathon dropped dead from exhaustion shortly after. My smugness at having survived this gruelling event was short lived when I researched the marathon’s history. As is often the case that truncated version left out a few rather important points. In 490BC the Persian Army wanted to invade Europe and had landed an army just outside of Athens on the plains of Marathon. Phidippides, a professional runner, ran 140 miles through mountainous and rugged countryside to seek help from Sparta’s army. He did that in 36 hours. The Spartans agreed to help – but due to religious laws they needed to wait until the full moon, thus leaving the Athenians alone and vastly outnumbered. So Phidippides took the news back to Athens. On foot. Yep. That’s another 140 miles (Ostapuk, 2014).

Then, wearing heavy armour, he joined the fighting force. Despite being outnumbered 4 to 1, the Athenian’s lost only 192 men to the Persians 6400. The Persians fled to the sea and headed to Athens hoping they could attack before the Greek Army had time to regroup. Once again the fleet of foot Phidippides was asked to pass on news of the victory and warn of the impending attack. That was the 26 miles too far. Having done the best he could, Phidippides died from exhaustion (Ostapuk, 2014). It certainly puts my achievement into perspective.

Lesson #1: Measure your achievements in the light of your life, your abilities and your life journey; because no matter what you achieve, there will always be someone who seems to have achieved more with less. That in no way diminishes your efforts; it simply highlights the different paths we all take.

The victory kept the Persians from conquering Europe, increased their confidence in their government and culture and led to modern nations like the United States and Canada.

Lesson #2: When you focus on your unique talent, you really can make a difference – even if you never live to recognise it.

Speeding ahead to modern day, we get to me. I’m not a professional runner but I’ve long admired people who have run a marathon. It seemed to me a physical, mental and emotional achievement beyond anything I could imagine. So I put it on my bucket list.

Since I’m not getting any younger, I decided that 2014 was the year. I started training late in 2013, though I use the term ‘training’ as loosely as you’d use the word ‘cuddly’ to describe a pet alligator. The Melbourne Marathon was almost a year away. Still, in keeping with the idea that publicising a goal tends to pressure you to fulfil it, I made my grand announcement. One friend, Gary Pearce (Gaz), called me up one day and asked me if I’d actually entered yet. I said I hadn’t – well, seriously an announcement is one thing, putting up money is a commitment. As a true friend would, he promised to make the journey from Hervey Bay in Queensland to Melbourne to run the event with me. We signed up that day.

Lesson #3: A difficult goal seems easier to achieve when someone signs up to join you – even though this may also indicate you’re just two lunatics egging each other on.

And so I ran. I also joined a 24/7 gym to work on strength and my core. This proved to be an exercise haven when Melbourne weather threatened to derail my training schedule. My main running route was a 5.3km course around my neighbourhood. Given that cities often have reputations for being unfriendly places, I am happy to report that my neighbourhood, at least, is very friendly. People walking their dogs smiled and said hello. People waiting at tram stops gave the thumbs up. Drivers stopped to allow me across the road. As I puffed up one hill near the end of a lap, one lady pushing a walker said, “I’m jealous.” There was also an old man who usually sat on his verandah; we began a waving ritual. He disappeared for weeks and when he came back I met him at his gate. He’d been sick, he told me. He was still sick. I told him that I’d missed him. He said that he’d missed me too. We wished each other well.

Lesson #4: Inspiration lingers in the most unexpected of places. Often the most inspiring people are not those who have already achieved, but those who support you to achieve what is no longer available to them.

My training required sacrifices. Yet, they didn’t seem like sacrifices. In the last three months before it, I undertook to only eat chocolate when I met up with my friend Emma. (I’ll bet she’s glad it’s over and she doesn’t have to see me quite so much ;-)). I stopped drinking alcohol. I drank three litres of water a day. I tried to do some sort of exercise every day. When people invited me to join spontaneous weekend activities, I often had to decline because the weekend was my ‘long run’ time. We call these things sacrifices. They aren’t really. A sacrifice to me is giving up something I’d rather be doing for something I feel obliged to do – like my tax. The reality was, while I would have enjoyed being with my friends, a part of me would have felt I was cheating myself out of a greater enjoyment.

Lesson #5: Instant gratification comes every moment we spend working towards a goal.