My first half IronMan, last year in Washington state, was a cautious endeavor. The swim was long, and the bike was hilly (and never ending), and the best part of the run was finding my brother, with whom I slowed down and jogged a few miles. I ended tired, but happy, at a 6:15.
It's been a year of hard training, so I expected somewhat better at Lawrence, KS. I did better, by a few minutes, but had 2 major problems in the race and ended up way off of my goal time. Here's what I learned:
1. You achieve what you practice. Chicago doesn't have hills, Lawrence has many. Point made; I didn't know how to manage my nutrition against those hills, and had to slow down on the bike to eat and to recover (fairly scarey). The race part was in the heat of the day, and I usually run in the early morning when it's cool. Second point made: I was overheating and had to pace slowly during the run.
2. There is grace to be found in disappointment, if you're willing to admit you got what you planned, and you're willing to still see the good in the effort, and learn to correct your mistakes for the next attempt.
I went to Kansas expecting to walk away with a huge sense of accomplishment. I didn't get that. What I did get, however, was meeting Chrissie Wellington, who is the current master of the sport for women (called the Michael Jordan or Tiger Woods of IronMan by some) - see her blog link over the the right.
For some odd reason, my bike was next to the pro's. And so in my warm up, getting ready for the swim and bike part of the race, I got to see them all prep. And she was there, smiling and chatting with people, posing for photos, pumping her tires, until it was time to get ready for the swim. Then she was all business. That was neat, just being part of the pro scene, and helping another pro tuck her race number into her swim suit.
Not expected, but fun.
And here's the wonderful thing - once she had won, she stayed and welcomed each finisher across the finish line. So I finished fairly strong, kind of tired, ready to be out of the heat. When I slowed down on the bike, I knew I had no chance of making my goal time, so I entered the run prepared to go slow and not over tire myself (and set my training back overall for August). Ending the run meant finding my family, who had been loyal and waiting throughout the hot day, and getting out of Kansas as soon as possible.
And then, as I walked through the chute, there was Chrissie, hugging strangers, posing for photos, and I stood in line. It wasn't that deep, maybe 2 or 3 people (many didn't realize she was even there). And she smiled, gave me a hug for finishing, and said sure she'd pose with me and mugged with a huge smile.
Here's what I shared later with one of my coaching clients who was complaining about an employee who was perfectionistic. I've written about perfection before (by way of correction), but this is a different take on the topic.
There is the race. At the race, you're all business. You're all about the race. But before the race, and after the race, live your life with connection, happiness, and grace. And greet those who are not as fast, and celebrate their efforts.
In that moment of connection with Wellington, I saw what a professional does, and how she can both be the best in the world, and not allow that knowledge to separate her from those who are trying their best (and making mistakes along the way).
Perfectionism is a goal, sure. Employees who chase being perfect really never stop the race. They just go, and go and go. And eventually, without rest, they cease to be perfect. In fact, they begin to tire...themselves, and others, in their loss of perspective against the need to connect - even more than compete - with others.
Being good at what one does is incredibly important. But focusing on ONLY being good, all the time, robs you of the chance to be present and connected to other's experiences. The latter, this sense of "being," is as equally important as doing.
Lawrence wasn't a perfect day for me. Not as I expected I could do, and not anything like I actually did. But in being there, at the end of the race, I thought...well, I am here, and look! Chrissie Wellington is here. So that's cool.
And here I got this moment of learning and connection with a superior athlete, who...just like everyone else...gave and received hugs and shared words of praise and encouragement to each person.
So later, after the race was becoming just another memory and story, I told the executive with whom I was working, think about your employee, who is trying to be perfect. Tell her that it's not all racing, all the time. Encourage her to step back, connect with others, and then go into the moment of the work and really work hard. And after the work is done, step back again, and thank them. Connect with them. Lead them. Inspire them.
Our leaders can help us focus. Our leaders can show us, and astonish us, with their own accomplishments. They have power, position, and should (and could) be forgiven for holding themselves above others...
Great leaders can also smile, relax, and connect when it matters. They can avoid holding themselves above. They can ignore title, they can ignore accomplishments, and they can ignore mistakes too. Brilliant leaders can put aside whatever it is that matters about them, and instead focus on what matters to others. Via that connection, they can inspire.
On Sunday, this past weekend, it mattered. I'm not sure that connection would have felt as good, as if I had had a great race. But that hug from Chrissie meant a lot, and I left feeling like I could return to my training renewed and with a sense of purpose.
I had the race that was meant for me that day in Lawrence, Kansas.
Later, my 5 year old (who had been so patiently waiting for me), asked, "Who is your new friend? The one who was hugging you?"
I said, "The greatest athlete in the sport, but not the greatest hugger. That's you."
And we hugged. Hard.
It's been a year of hard training, so I expected somewhat better at Lawrence, KS. I did better, by a few minutes, but had 2 major problems in the race and ended up way off of my goal time. Here's what I learned:
1. You achieve what you practice. Chicago doesn't have hills, Lawrence has many. Point made; I didn't know how to manage my nutrition against those hills, and had to slow down on the bike to eat and to recover (fairly scarey). The race part was in the heat of the day, and I usually run in the early morning when it's cool. Second point made: I was overheating and had to pace slowly during the run.
2. There is grace to be found in disappointment, if you're willing to admit you got what you planned, and you're willing to still see the good in the effort, and learn to correct your mistakes for the next attempt.
I went to Kansas expecting to walk away with a huge sense of accomplishment. I didn't get that. What I did get, however, was meeting Chrissie Wellington, who is the current master of the sport for women (called the Michael Jordan or Tiger Woods of IronMan by some) - see her blog link over the the right.
For some odd reason, my bike was next to the pro's. And so in my warm up, getting ready for the swim and bike part of the race, I got to see them all prep. And she was there, smiling and chatting with people, posing for photos, pumping her tires, until it was time to get ready for the swim. Then she was all business. That was neat, just being part of the pro scene, and helping another pro tuck her race number into her swim suit.
Not expected, but fun.
And here's the wonderful thing - once she had won, she stayed and welcomed each finisher across the finish line. So I finished fairly strong, kind of tired, ready to be out of the heat. When I slowed down on the bike, I knew I had no chance of making my goal time, so I entered the run prepared to go slow and not over tire myself (and set my training back overall for August). Ending the run meant finding my family, who had been loyal and waiting throughout the hot day, and getting out of Kansas as soon as possible.
And then, as I walked through the chute, there was Chrissie, hugging strangers, posing for photos, and I stood in line. It wasn't that deep, maybe 2 or 3 people (many didn't realize she was even there). And she smiled, gave me a hug for finishing, and said sure she'd pose with me and mugged with a huge smile.
Here's what I shared later with one of my coaching clients who was complaining about an employee who was perfectionistic. I've written about perfection before (by way of correction), but this is a different take on the topic.
There is the race. At the race, you're all business. You're all about the race. But before the race, and after the race, live your life with connection, happiness, and grace. And greet those who are not as fast, and celebrate their efforts.
In that moment of connection with Wellington, I saw what a professional does, and how she can both be the best in the world, and not allow that knowledge to separate her from those who are trying their best (and making mistakes along the way).
Perfectionism is a goal, sure. Employees who chase being perfect really never stop the race. They just go, and go and go. And eventually, without rest, they cease to be perfect. In fact, they begin to tire...themselves, and others, in their loss of perspective against the need to connect - even more than compete - with others.
Being good at what one does is incredibly important. But focusing on ONLY being good, all the time, robs you of the chance to be present and connected to other's experiences. The latter, this sense of "being," is as equally important as doing.
Lawrence wasn't a perfect day for me. Not as I expected I could do, and not anything like I actually did. But in being there, at the end of the race, I thought...well, I am here, and look! Chrissie Wellington is here. So that's cool.
And here I got this moment of learning and connection with a superior athlete, who...just like everyone else...gave and received hugs and shared words of praise and encouragement to each person.
So later, after the race was becoming just another memory and story, I told the executive with whom I was working, think about your employee, who is trying to be perfect. Tell her that it's not all racing, all the time. Encourage her to step back, connect with others, and then go into the moment of the work and really work hard. And after the work is done, step back again, and thank them. Connect with them. Lead them. Inspire them.
Our leaders can help us focus. Our leaders can show us, and astonish us, with their own accomplishments. They have power, position, and should (and could) be forgiven for holding themselves above others...
Great leaders can also smile, relax, and connect when it matters. They can avoid holding themselves above. They can ignore title, they can ignore accomplishments, and they can ignore mistakes too. Brilliant leaders can put aside whatever it is that matters about them, and instead focus on what matters to others. Via that connection, they can inspire.
On Sunday, this past weekend, it mattered. I'm not sure that connection would have felt as good, as if I had had a great race. But that hug from Chrissie meant a lot, and I left feeling like I could return to my training renewed and with a sense of purpose.
I had the race that was meant for me that day in Lawrence, Kansas.
- Lawrence, Kansas, which I learned when I was there to be one of the most difficult places to live during the Civil War.
- Lawrence, Kansas, where I swam in the lakes and biked along the wheat fields.
- Lawrence, Kansas, where we ran in the heat of the day. And the moment of learning... was worth it.
Later, my 5 year old (who had been so patiently waiting for me), asked, "Who is your new friend? The one who was hugging you?"
I said, "The greatest athlete in the sport, but not the greatest hugger. That's you."
And we hugged. Hard.
