I said I was done running ultramarathons.
And I meant it.
Then, last Saturday, I ran about 20 miles on a trail with an ankle that had been giving me trouble.
Before anybody gets too excited, let me clarify something. An ultramarathon is anything longer than 26.2 miles. Twenty miles is NOT an ultra.
So technically, I'm still retired. 😎
Now, if you've read my previous Insight, “I See It. I'm Doing It Anyway,” you already know I went into this race fully aware that I might be making a questionable decision.
I'd been dealing with an ankle injury, and I knew running could make things worse. Potentially a lot worse.
But I also know my body. I've been running long enough to recognize the difference between discomfort and something that might be doing real damage.
At least, that's what I told myself.
And guess what?
I finished. My feet and ankles were sore, but nothing that suggested I'd done any significant damage. I even added some mileage to meet a friend and run-walk the final stretch of his 50K with him.
See? I told you I knew what I was doing!
(Insert smug grin here.)
But here's the thing.
I could have been wrong.
Dead wrong.
I could have aggravated the injury, extended my recovery by months, or done something that required medical intervention.
I knew that going in. I was willing to accept the consequences, whatever they turned out to be.
And fortunately, things worked out.
But that experience got me thinking about something I've wrestled with for most of my life.
My stubbornness.
It's one of my greatest strengths.
And sometimes, it's one of my biggest problems.
That same stubbornness has helped me finish marathons, ultramarathons, Ironman-distance races, and plenty of other things that probably seemed like terrible ideas somewhere along the way.
It's also served me well throughout my career, helping me navigate difficult decisions and conversations, persevere through challenges, and stand behind things I believe are worth pursuing, even when the path forward wasn't easy.
I value that part of who I am.
But here's what I don't always like admitting.
That same stubbornness has also created challenges. Even in my marriage.
Kim and I have wrestled with it for much of our married lives.
And unlike running a trail race, where I'm largely the one accepting the consequences, stubbornness in a marriage doesn't just affect me.
It affects someone I love.
That's a different kind of risk.
Over the years, I've had to learn that being determined isn't always the same as being right. That standing firm isn't always the same as standing on principle. And that sometimes what I call perseverance is really just me being stubborn.
There. I said it.
The interesting thing is, I don't think I've become all that much less stubborn.
Ask Kim. She'll probably confirm that. 😂
What has changed is my ability to recognize it.
Sometimes I see it coming before she even says a word.
I can recognize when I'm digging in my heels, when I'm getting defensive, or when my determination is starting to become something less helpful.
Do I always respond perfectly?
Not even close.
But I'm better than I used to be.
And after all these years, I'm still working on it.
That's where I think experience has taught me something important.
A strength doesn't stop being a strength just because it can become a liability.
Both can be true.
The challenge is learning when it serves us and when it doesn't.
My stubbornness on a trail, where I've considered the risks and am willing to accept the consequences, is different from my stubbornness in a relationship where someone else may have to live with those consequences.
Same characteristic.
Different circumstances.
Different responsibility.
And sometimes, different choices are required.
I don't want to eliminate the part of me that refuses to give up. It's helped make me who I am.
But I also don't want to be so proud of that strength that I fail to recognize when it's getting in the way.
Sometimes our greatest strengths become our blind spots precisely because they've served us so well.
We trust them.
We rely on them.
And occasionally, we forget to question whether they're helping in the situation we're facing right now.
Maybe growth isn't always about changing who we are.
Maybe sometimes it's about becoming wise enough to know when the very thing that makes us strong needs to take a back seat.
I'm still learning that.
And something tells me Kim would appreciate it if I learned a little faster.
(Sheepish grin.)
— Coach Dave
Your NoBS Reflection
NOTICE: What's a characteristic you consider one of your greatest strengths that might occasionally work against you?
OWN: Are there situations where you've relied on that strength without considering how it affects others?
BUILD: What could help you recognize when that strength is serving you, and when it's getting in the way?
SUSTAIN: How can you continue using that strength without allowing it to become a blind spot?
