Beyond Speed and Skill

Do you know who Eliud Kipchoge Rotich is? How about Feyisa Lilesa or Galen Rupp? Maybe not, but I’ll bet you’ve at least heard of Usain Bolt. And you probably still remember guys like Carl Lewis and Michael Johnston even though neither has really competed in the last couple decades. We are wowed by the flashiness of speed. It grabs our attention and holds it captive.

We are also mesmerized by obvious display of seemingly otherworldly skill, such as Simone Biles in floor routine, who just made history with her sixth all-around US gymnastics title. Conspicuous displays of talent and speed are hard to ignore. Stamina, however, is far less exciting. It may even be boring.

Rotich, Lilesa and Rupp are the Gold, Silver and Bronze Medal winners respectively from the 2016 Olympic Marathon. Eliud Kipchoge Rotich finished the course in just over two hours, 2:08:44 to be exact. That means his average speed was 12.2 miles per hour. But that speed is nothing remarkable by itself. A lot of people can run 12 miles per hour. What earned Rotich the Gold Medal is he kept up that average pace for OVER TWENTY-SIX FREAKING MILES!?! If I really pushed myself, maybe I could have kept up with him for the first 800 meters, then I would need to call Uber. No doubt, Rotich has speed, but not enough to grab your attention. There is certainly a great deal of technique and strategy in a marathon, but it’s very subtle and imperceptible to the average observer. What makes Rotich phenomenal is stamina.

Stamina isn’t sexy, flashy or even remarkable (at least not in the moment). You might even say it’s dull and monotonous. But stamina is something you can control. God might not have made you particularly athletic, quick and coordinated. But choosing to not quit is entirely up to you. Simply continuing to move forward, regardless of your speed, will lead to many victories in your life. Even if you walk the 26.2 miles of a marathon, you will still be in select company for simply having completed such a daunting objective.

Comments

Toxic Humility

We have all seen false humility: the guy who tries to hide his arrogance with feigned modesty. It’s usually pretty obvious and always obnoxious. But there is also another variation of false humility out there: toxic humility. This is often displayed in self-deprecating talk and a lack of self-confidence, belittling or undermining one’s own talents and abilities. The danger in this kind of behavior is twofold: it is too often accepted as true humility and like a virus, it spreads doubt and disbelief. To clarify, it is not that the bearer of this toxic humility isn’t honest about his view of himself. That is the very issue: he absolutely believes he has little value or utility. He thinks downplaying his own worth is humility but I disagree. CS Lewis said it best when he wrote, “Humility is not thinking less of yourself, it's thinking about yourself less.” His point being, true humility is not an ever-present raincloud of self-doubt that follows you around. It’s a focus on...

The Art of Intentionality

“Intentional living is the art of making our own choices before others’ choices make you.” – Richie Norton I am not even sure who Richie Norton is, but I love that quote! I imagine a ship drifting out to sea, pushed around by the wind and the waves. No course of direction, yet the captain is frustrated when the ship ends up dashed against the rocks, trapped on a sandbar or marooned on an inhospitable island. It is easy to complain when life takes us where we do not want to go. But who is really to blame if we have never set our sails to align us along an appropriate course? Do we blame the waves, wind and the weather? Or should we blame the captain of the ship? It is our life and our ship. We must set our sails with intentionality and determined choices. Otherwise, we are doomed to aimlessly drift along according to the choices and decisions of others.

The Hungry Lion

Early in my career, as I was struggling to both build up my clientele and provide food for my family, someone tried to encourage me by saying, “remember, the hungry lion hunts best.” At the time, that made sense to me. And it probably even provided some much-needed reassurance. But I have since come to think differently. I was a starving lion, and I learned a few things from the experience. Hungry lions get fatigued. They become desperate. They cut corners. They make unforced errors. But fed lions have their own issues. Their satiety can turn into selfishness. They get comfortable and then complacent. These lions do not hunt well either. I believe the lion who hunts best is not the hungry lion nor the satisfied lion, but rather the lion who hunts not for himself and his own hunger, but for the pride of lions around him. His drive is not his own need for nourishment; it is the hunger of those around him that motivates him. Our world is a hurting and hungry place. Not just ...

Mindset Matters

Search This Blog