By Chris Chavez
In October of this year I competed in the Chicago marathon. Chicago is one of the most competitive marathons in the world and I chose it as my first because of the deep field, incredible history, and fast course. I went to Chicago with the goal of running a 2:15 marathon and finishing in the top 20 in one of the world’s premier running races. I did not meet my goals in Chicago, and as I prepare to ramp up my training for a Spring marathon I believe it is important to properly reflect on what happened the first time out and what I learned in my first bout with the 26.2 mile distance. As always, many of the best lessons from distance running span much further than the roads.
Long before I toed the line I sat with my coach, Magda Lewy-Boulet, and mapped out my training for the next several months. Every mile, every interval session and every recovery day were documented long before they occurred. A training progression was put in place. In addition to the running I was expected to do all of the supplementary work along the way: eat healthy, rest, stretch, and so on.
.jpg)
By the time I made the trip to Chicago I felt I had done everything right. My training went well. I managed many of the highest mileage weeks of my life and I was showing up to the race healthy and injury free. But, when it comes to distance running, there are no sure things. As every distance runner knows, each time we approach the starting line we risk failure. You can attempt to do everything that “should” be done, but nothing is guaranteed. Not only do we take this risk, but we do so publicly, in front of our family, friends and colleagues (several members of my firm’s Chicago office came out to the marathon to watch me race) and anybody who follows distance running closely enough to look through the results of your latest competition.
When the gun went off in Chicago I quickly began running at my goal pace, a pace that I had drilled into my legs through countless repetitions. I began clicking off miles one after the next and feeling great, but things began to go poorly around mile 11. By mile 15, I knew that my initial goals were a distant dream. But I stuck with it. Despite my pace slowing over the later stages of the race I stayed competitive, battling the other runners (I do acknowledge that I was the passed much more often than the passer at this point), the unusual heat and the unfamiliar distance. I finished the race in 31st place with a time of 2:22. I was physically exhausted and emotionally heartbroken. I had worked so hard only to not meet my goal.
I am my harshest critic, and after I left the course that day I felt almost nothing but disappointment. Like everything else in life there is something to be learned whenever you take a chance at success and, perhaps, more to learn when you fail. As I was beating myself up for missing my goal my fiancé came to me and said, “You got 31st out of 36,000. You are doing something right.” That is when it clicked, success and failure are not absolute end points. I did not reach my ultimate goal, but I did not fail, either. I succeeded in executing my training, I succeeded in managing my time and not sacrificing anything in my professional life, I succeeded in pushing my body to run a competitive marathon and if I can learn from what I did not accomplish I can find more success in the future. At no other point in my life would I have been capable of what I did that day, showing that it is impossible to know what I will be able to accomplish tomorrow.
As I prepare for my next marathon this Spring, I prepare to risk failure again for a chance at success. I am prepared to sacrifice my body and health, my emotional wellbeing, my sanity and so much of my time to simply put myself in a position to attempt to run faster than I have before. These are enormous sacrifices for a payoff that is difficult to quantify: a cheering crowd at the finish line, my coach’s proud feedback, a time and a place forever engraved in the minutiae of running history. It is only in this enormous risk that the most personal and valuable benefits can be obtained. A goal met is proof of the worthiness of the work that has been done and fuels the belief in the possibility of new goals that once seemed impossible. For me, this is worth the risk of failure.
So I encourage all of the BATC blog readers to take this risk. Whether it be in running or any other endeavor, push yourself harder than you ever have. If you succeed, then raise the bar for next time. If you do not, remember that some of the greatest lessons can be learned in failure if you choose to see them. Good luck!
In October of this year I competed in the Chicago marathon. Chicago is one of the most competitive marathons in the world and I chose it as my first because of the deep field, incredible history, and fast course. I went to Chicago with the goal of running a 2:15 marathon and finishing in the top 20 in one of the world’s premier running races. I did not meet my goals in Chicago, and as I prepare to ramp up my training for a Spring marathon I believe it is important to properly reflect on what happened the first time out and what I learned in my first bout with the 26.2 mile distance. As always, many of the best lessons from distance running span much further than the roads.
Long before I toed the line I sat with my coach, Magda Lewy-Boulet, and mapped out my training for the next several months. Every mile, every interval session and every recovery day were documented long before they occurred. A training progression was put in place. In addition to the running I was expected to do all of the supplementary work along the way: eat healthy, rest, stretch, and so on.
By the time I made the trip to Chicago I felt I had done everything right. My training went well. I managed many of the highest mileage weeks of my life and I was showing up to the race healthy and injury free. But, when it comes to distance running, there are no sure things. As every distance runner knows, each time we approach the starting line we risk failure. You can attempt to do everything that “should” be done, but nothing is guaranteed. Not only do we take this risk, but we do so publicly, in front of our family, friends and colleagues (several members of my firm’s Chicago office came out to the marathon to watch me race) and anybody who follows distance running closely enough to look through the results of your latest competition. When the gun went off in Chicago I quickly began running at my goal pace, a pace that I had drilled into my legs through countless repetitions. I began clicking off miles one after the next and feeling great, but things began to go poorly around mile 11. By mile 15, I knew that my initial goals were a distant dream. But I stuck with it. Despite my pace slowing over the later stages of the race I stayed competitive, battling the other runners (I do acknowledge that I was the passed much more often than the passer at this point), the unusual heat and the unfamiliar distance. I finished the race in 31st place with a time of 2:22. I was physically exhausted and emotionally heartbroken. I had worked so hard only to not meet my goal.
I am my harshest critic, and after I left the course that day I felt almost nothing but disappointment. Like everything else in life there is something to be learned whenever you take a chance at success and, perhaps, more to learn when you fail. As I was beating myself up for missing my goal my fiancé came to me and said, “You got 31st out of 36,000. You are doing something right.” That is when it clicked, success and failure are not absolute end points. I did not reach my ultimate goal, but I did not fail, either. I succeeded in executing my training, I succeeded in managing my time and not sacrificing anything in my professional life, I succeeded in pushing my body to run a competitive marathon and if I can learn from what I did not accomplish I can find more success in the future. At no other point in my life would I have been capable of what I did that day, showing that it is impossible to know what I will be able to accomplish tomorrow.
As I prepare for my next marathon this Spring, I prepare to risk failure again for a chance at success. I am prepared to sacrifice my body and health, my emotional wellbeing, my sanity and so much of my time to simply put myself in a position to attempt to run faster than I have before. These are enormous sacrifices for a payoff that is difficult to quantify: a cheering crowd at the finish line, my coach’s proud feedback, a time and a place forever engraved in the minutiae of running history. It is only in this enormous risk that the most personal and valuable benefits can be obtained. A goal met is proof of the worthiness of the work that has been done and fuels the belief in the possibility of new goals that once seemed impossible. For me, this is worth the risk of failure.So I encourage all of the BATC blog readers to take this risk. Whether it be in running or any other endeavor, push yourself harder than you ever have. If you succeed, then raise the bar for next time. If you do not, remember that some of the greatest lessons can be learned in failure if you choose to see them. Good luck!
I have a binder that I keep for my HS CC team named Coach White. It has their times for the season, pictures of them making ugly faces during races, pace charts, training advice and motivational articles. I just printed this to add. It echoes the messages that I'm constantly trying to give them. Hopefully seeing it from a source other than me will help drive the message home for a few more runners and make them realize that there is no need to fear failure.