Self realisation in pink runners
So yesterday was Mother’s Day. Last month I told of the training I’d been doing in order to get fit enough to complete the 8km foot race this weekend. Over the last four weeks I have done numerous 8km runs – on treadmills, along beachfronts and through the bush. As I enjoyed them, I figured I had hit my stride and would do a reasonable time in the Mother’s Day Classic around Sydney’s Domain.
So there I was yesterday in a hot pink MIMs shirt running as part of the Mums In Motion team. We looked good. Having got over the Fiji flu and with two rest days under my belt, I felt pretty good too.
At 7:30am a mass of people assembled in slight drizzle, under the starting arch. Melinda Gainsford Taylor popped the gun and we were off.
Staying wide I managed to overtake quite a few people in the first half a K’. It was slightly downhill, and the autumn air kept things cool. Off to a good start I thought.
Only one problem. Yesterday I found out that there is such a thing as over-preparation.
There I was, keen as a mung bean, ready to fire up and do a sub-40 minutes. I had taken my two rest days prior. Put in some decent training before hand. Stayed off the wine for the week and replaced it three days out with Endura Sports Mix to maximise my magnesium levels. Ate Spag Bol the night before then got up at 5:45am and made myself a hot porridge with sultanas.
It proved to be my downfall. After the first kilometre I realised that the leaden feeling in my stomach had less to do with race nerves than it did with my big bowl of Goldilock’s favourite breakfast. Instead of sitting pretty, I was running heavy. With every step swayed a big chug of swirly oats. Kind’ve like liquid concrete.
I had put so much effort in to doing the right thing for race day that I lost sight of the bigger picture… What started out as a bit of fun, to raise money for a good cause and give me a reason to stay motivated with my training had seen me overshoot my mark on D-Day.
I’ve had the same thing happen in pitches too. Spent so long over-thinking and over-analysing the perfect solution to a prospect’s situation that we’ve forgotten simply to go in and introduce ourselves. As with this race, ultimately clients and suppliers are looking for partners who are in it to have some fun, do it for the right reasons and deliver a good result.
Sometimes trying too hard loses you that perspective.
Without doubt, the solid miles I had put in weeks before ensured that, even with a distended belly I finished within my target time. But I would have liked to have pushed it that bit further.
Next time, with this race experience under my belt, I should be able to judge the pre-race meal a little better and incrementally improve.
It’s the sort of preparation that can only come from years of experience. Let’s hope I live a long life. I’m going to need a while to get it right.
