A few years ago, no longer being a guy that could literally jump into his running shoes and bang out (seemingly, at least) any amount of miles, I invented a little running trick that I employed today.
Those of you who have known me long enough have read stories of my hopes to be a published author and all of the trials, travails, failures, and bumps along the way I have faced as I pursue this dream.
Along the way, there have also, of course been some successes, but these only came after much failure, many rejections, and more than a few (sometimes harsh) criticisms from those in the business of publishing.
It may seem like this passage is about running, but it’s not. It’s about me and you and all of us. The place where the idea was born, though, came out of running. Stick with me, you’ll understand in a moment…
While I have always tried to push myself to do things that I didn’t think were possible, and sometimes succeeded (but just as often failed), and while I have always believed that I could do anything (and I do believe we all can), I am sometimes (believe it or not) hampered by self-doubt.
This all might sound like a contradiction, but it isn’t. As we push to attain new goals, part of us often wonders if that new goal is possible. I’m a big believer in trying. I like to go for it, but as I do, there are times when I wonder if attaining the goal is even possible.
I began my Labor Day weekend by pushing through the pain and self-doubt that accompanies any great effort and ran a half-marathon on my treadmill.
It took 2 hours, 17 minutes, and 32 seconds.
It’s not a marathon, but half way is a great place to be.
Most often, it’s not about the end result, it’s more about the efforts one takes to get there.
This is one of those stories that, at once, is hard to believe, but is the absolute truth. This is one of those stories that remind us all that failure is part of success. This is true even for people who are considered the greatest of all time, for, you see, they weren’t always considered as such.
This seems like a story about baseball, but it’s not. It’s a story about failure. And success. Great success.
Great success that came only after dismal failure.
I will begin this post by stating an obvious point:
Usain Bolt is an amazing sprinter.
As a runner who (more and more) plods through training runs and marathons, I am in awe of Usain Bolt’s speed, grace, and magnificence.
I had a great idea for this blog post, but I just couldn’t put it together in a coherent way. As such, I was forced to scratch the original and find another idea to write about.
I tried a second time, and the words, again, just didn’t come.
If you can’t get it right the first time, try again.
As a runner, I was Superman. But, that was a while ago.
When I started running marathons, I thought I was invincible.
The following is a true story about how when one strives to be the best, he brings himself, and others, to heights previously unimagined.
Our story begins with the most successful band in the history of rock and roll, the Beatles. The year was 1965. The Beatles were sitting on top of the musical world. In the previous three years they had charted no fewer than 40 songs. 24 songs of those sings reached the Top-40 with 11 becoming number-one hits. In that short time the Beatles released no fewer than six albums that also reached number-one on the charts.
The Beatles “yeah, yeah, yeah” style and sound was a defining aspect of popular music, yet, all of that was about to change…