Becoming Elite and the Value of Just Showing Up

As I was getting ready for my daily training run this Tuesday morning, I checked the piece of paper I keep on my dresser on which my coach had scribbled my training plan for the week. It said that I was supposed to run 13 kilometres and it told me the pace I was supposed to do it at. So I flicked on my headlamp, reluctantly opened the door to feel the chilly pre-dawn winter air on my half-asleep face and set off, somewhat ready to do the prescribed training. Except mother nature had other plans for my workout.

My route was covered with a slippery sheet of ice, atypical for Vancouver’s climate, and it became clear there was no way I was going to be able to run as fast as planned without falling on my ass, coach’s orders be damned. So instead I plodded along, sometimes running fast enough to work up a sweat, other times doing what I liked to think of as a pretty cute penguin waddle, and mostly just trying to not fall while continuing to move forward. It wasn’t so much of a “workout” as just an attempt to get from A to B safely.

And I kept up the waddling as the sun rose and before I knew it, I had done 13k, even if it had taken me way longer than planned (especially if you include the bathroom break). And I returned home feeling satisfied that I had at the very least gotten out there and completed the thing. And even though it felt like my pace had been too slow to really get a proper workout, I was confident that I was still well on my way to getting fit for my spring races, much more so than if I had just stayed in bed that morning.

Later that day, when I reflected on that feeling I had finishing up my 13k waddle, I started to realize that I felt that way for one reason or another about many of the runs and other training sessions I’ve ever done. If I do a rough mental tally of all the runs I’ve done in bad weather, hungover, still digesting lunch, with a cold, or rushed in between appointments, I realize that those make up the huge majority of my total runs, and I start to paint a picture of a runner that just kind of survives his weekly mileage. Even after all these years of training, the runs on which everything just comes together and I feel great are few and far between, and quietly celebrated amongst all the other runs that I just bumble through.

Most days, I’m not out there soaring on a runner’s high, effortlessly galloping down the road like a high-performance machine. Most days, I’m just a guy that likes the regularity that a daily run brings to my lifestyle, and too much of a people-pleaser to forego my coach’s instructions once they’ve been written on the page. So I lace up my shoes, get out there for an hour or two, much of it either distracted by some pointless train of thought or chit-chatting with my training partners, and then come home satisfied to get on with the rest of my life.

But it turns out that I’ve actually managed to become a pretty decent athlete. While the gap between me and the best of the best is and always will be immense, and I’ve written before about how I have a hard time feeling like I’ve ever accomplished much, I think I can still safely and with humility say that I’ve pretty good at this running thing. Of the few million people that live in my province, there’s only about 50 or so that can beat me in a long-distance footrace, and sometimes race organizers will even put my name on their promotional material with their list of “elite athletes”. And I hope you believe I’m being genuine when I say that this isn’t a story about how great I am, but rather a discussion of how I got here even if I feel like I don’t put much effort into it on a day by day basis.

And I think the answer lies in the fact that while I rarely put much of myself into any individual run, I’ve at least done a run of some length and intensity most days of the last decade. Despite the very real daily temptations of Happy Hours, video game binges, or the snooze button, I almost always at the very least go outside and just get a run over with. And if we go back, it probably matters that in the previous decade, I spent an hour or so of most days running back and forth on a soccer or rugby field with my friends. And I guess I spent an hour or so per day of the decade before that running around my mom’s backyard pickup up snails or whatever it was us kids did back then. And here I am today: “elite runner”.

I guess the reason I thought it was important for me write this is that in most depictions of athletics in film, tv, or advertising, we’re often shown the protagonist getting super fit over the course of one dramatic training montage or heroic workout in which they grunt a lot and try very, very hard and then come out the other end being better than the bad guy or whatever. And I certainly believe that there is a place for those epic workouts in the real-life athlete’s life, but they’re way outnumbered by ones we just show up for, excited to get it over with so that we can drink beer or socialize with our training partners afterwards. I believe that the realistic pursuit of greatness in any type of skill lies in consistency and simply showing up every day, even if just to get it done, and I think that my attitude towards my icy Tuesday run and my own achievements in running support that belief.

And I don’t think that approach is limited to athletics. Whether you want to be elite-level at playing guitar or speaking a second language or baking cookies, you shouldn’t be waiting for a moment of great inspiration or seeking the motivation to commit what you imagine to be elite-level energy and willpower towards it, you just need to practice a little bit every day. Half-ass it every once in a while if you want. Importantly, get an experienced coach or reputable guidebook to tell you what to do every day so that you don’t even need to think about it.

Of course if you’re trying to go to the Olympics or win a Nobel Prize or whatever the worlds-best honour in your chosen field is, you’ll need a bit more organization and determination than this post suggests, and you should probably go somewhere other than my blog for advice. But if you want to be the best at something in your office, neighbourhood, or even state/province? You can probably just show up for an hour or two most days for the next few years or decades. You’ll get there.