My Race Experience: Journey Over Results
My story and lessons from 49 straight training runs and 1 race
Last week, I ran a 10K race after a training cycle of 49 training runs over 10 weeks—all while not missing a single run. I successfully leveraged the ABC goal system to come oh-so-close to achieving something I set out to do (45:00 10K). I learned several things on this journey of highs and lows that I’d love to share, so let’s go!
The System
First, I admit that I’m not the most disciplined person. I’ve strived for discipline-based goals in the past and failed to show up consistently. This has been my nemesis. And, it’s the reason I wrote an article about bouncing back better after grappling with this reality. This time, however, was different.
This 10K goal was pushing my previous running milestones to a whole new level. I knew it sounded scary, and I had to take it seriously. I couldn’t get away with half-showing up and winging this one like I had in the past. I found a training plan that structured 5 runs per week over 10 weeks. Now, I have a plan to run the best race of my life; all that’s left is doing it.
This is sounding great so far, but I had to ask myself what’s going to change this time? Why will I be consistent and successful this time? In the past, I had some mild success journaling about training runs: did I do it, how it went, and what I could do better next time. So, I thought I’d try integrating the ABC method with each journal entry. I knew, no matter what, I could accomplish at least a C-effort and make some progress to keep me on track (even though not ideal, anything above 0 is a win). Here’s what each goal level looked like for this plan:
A — the full workout, as prescribed.
B — at least half of the workout (e.g., if the plan called for 6 intervals, this would mean 3+ intervals completed).
C — run easy for 30 minutes
My journal entries started off looking like:
10K Training - 0 / 10 runs (0 A, 0 B, 0 C, 0 Missed) Current C+: 0%, Goal: 10 C+ (100%) through May-5
This helps me keep myself accountable for every run. I can talk about what happened, how it felt, and what’s next.
The fickle fact about motivation is that it only lasts for such a short amount of time. This is where the superpower of having a system is so great. It helps build a self-propelling momentum that carries us in magical ways. As the runs started accumulating and those journal entries showed progress, it felt better and better to see the numbers tick up. The days when I felt “meh,” I still went out for at least a C effort so that I could increment that number. Logging an entry after a workout felt good. It felt productive. And, most importantly, it generated new excitement for logging that next run (hence self-propelling momentum!). Systems > motivation, any day.
“You do not rise to the level of your goals. You fall to the level of your systems.” — James Clear
Consistency Achieved
At the end of the 10-week training block, I was able to do all 49 training runs with 0 misses (side note, I’ve been running for 8 years and I’ve looked in Strava and see that I’ve only ever completed 18 straight workouts in a plan before a miss). Hence, the last entry of this training block (and wow did it feel good!):
10K Training - 49 / 49 runs (36 A, 10 B, 3 C, 0 Missed) Current C+: 100%, Goal: 49 C+ (100%) through Jul-5
This included going on vacations, being sore, and helping out with my sick family. I knew, though, I had to just get out there during those lows at the C effort, and I will still make progress. I’ll still compound effort, and that felt great regardless of what else was going on.
Getting to this point not only provided me with physical benefits, but it also gave me incredible confidence that I can indeed do something for an extended period. Now I had a much-needed mental boost heading into the race.
The Race
Race day was here. I went into it with a confidence I hadn’t otherwise experienced. I couldn’t say to myself, my training was just OK. No, my training was productive and maximally consistent; the two ingredients needed for a great performance.
I also decided to give myself some grace. After all, this is just a race, and it should be fun. I wasn’t going to allow myself to enter a hyper-competitive headspace that zaps all the enjoyment out of the whole thing. If I hit my goal, great; if I fall short, that’s OK too. The journey is what mattered most (more on that later).
The starting horn blares; it’s go time! I’m with the lead pack of runners right away, feeling great on fresh legs. A few minutes in, I decide to look at my watch. Whoa! I’m going WAY too fast here—I was on target for a 42:30 10K! I have to intentionally dial it back. I know that negative splits (starting slower and ending faster) will result in my best performance per the science. Oh, but those first couple of miles, everything feels easy, even at the fast pace. I need to corral my brain and let my logical side win the argument; dial it back, and settle in.
Everything was humming along nicely, and then came mile 4. Things are starting to hurt, and the pace is taking its toll on my breathing and heart rate. I’m in it now! But I’m able to stay on for a bit more. Mile 5 is when the pain exponentially ramped up to new levels. Then, the desire to just be done started kicking in. I see the turnaround a few hundred yards ahead... no one would notice if I just turned around early. I’d be lying to say I wasn’t tempted. No one else would know. But, even in the heap of discomfort, I would know. I’d only be cheating myself. That was enough to go the full distance, even though my brain was desperately bartering with me to end it.
Now I’m rounding a corner and I notice a playground in the distance. That’s the playground near the starting line, where my son was playing before I left. Oh wow, I’m close! And, my watch is reading 41:00—there’s still a chance I could nail this goal!
My mantra changed from “stay on it” (thank you, Mario Fraioli, for the mantra) to “I can do anything for the next few minutes.”
Finally, the finish line is visible, and I have to (as politely as I can) announce to another group of runners that I was coming up on their left as they were impeding the path. I could barely get the words out. It’s safe to say that all my blood wasn’t prioritized for talking. They kindly moved, and I strode across the finish line as swiftly as I could. Then, I lay down immediately in the grass. My body is torched, and it felt amazing to just lie down. Almost like I was lying on the best mattress ever.
My family comes over, my son asks why I’m lying down, and I am feeling super happy that it’s done. I pull up the race results on my phone to see if I hit my goal. 45:07. Missed it by 7 seconds! I still felt great about the result. A new personal record by a long shot, and I think it’s close enough to call a success. I hop in line and grab my finisher items. It turns out I placed 3rd overall for males. I was pretty stoked about that, and it goes to show how dedicated and consistent effort over a period of time leads to success.
Direction Over Destination
And, just like that, the race was done. All that work leading up to the race. After a few minutes, I was ready to go get breakfast and continue the day with my family. It’s so funny that it works that way. The race doesn’t truly matter; the direction is what counts. All that build up, training, and lessons learned are what I can take with me. The race is just a snapshot in time, a single result, but we are defined by our cumulative actions over a long period of time.
It feels unfair in a way. You’d think we’d get to celebrate for longer, feel great for longer, but it just doesn’t seem to work out that way. Pro-golfer Scottie Scheffler recently talked about something similar regarding being #1 in golf and asking: What’s the point? I guess it’s just the nature of progress. So, now I get to shift focus to what’s next. I get to decide where to set the new direction, and I’ll gladly share my journey with you all on how it goes.
While this story was about running, it also applies to other areas in life. Any focused and consistent effort toward a skill, project, or life mission will result in progress. We may even come to a point where the progress is labeled in some way (e.g., a race result, promotion, or other recognition), but that isn’t the end of the story. It only shows whether something was achieved, and then we all move on in the vast depths of time. Pretty wild, but striving and working toward something we care about makes a life worth living. Agree?
