Recently I sat with a friend as we watched his nine-year-old daughter compete in a gymnastics competition. Standing only four-feet-eight inches tall, she walked straight out onto the floor after her name was called and nailed her routine. Then she returned calmly to her place on the bench with all the other gymnasts, back ramrod straight, head held high. I turned to look at my friend, amazed by his daughter's poise and confidence. "Don't look at me," he said with a shrug. "I don't know where she gets it!"

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Last month, I lined up for the Boston Marathon, running on behalf of the Run For Research Team (thank you to all those who kindly donated). What amazes me is that even though I’ve run this race before and have completed dozens of other marathons in the past, still, there is always that tiny seed of doubt right before the gun goes off. Some little part of me that does not fully believe I can finish the distance ahead of me. Sure, it says, maybe you crossed the finish line before, but what have you got today?

I believe all worthwhile endeavors are like this. 

And the more important that challenge is to you, the greater the doubt and risk of failure will be. The Wright Brothers did not know for certain that manned flight was possible before they actually did it. A series of near fatal disasters and financial setbacks preceded their eventual success. But on the morning of December 17th 1903, with a few jerky movements, Orville Wright finally coaxed the ungainly Wright Flying Machine into the air. It was a courageous leap of faith that lasted all of twelve seconds, covering a distance of only 120 feet. But it changed forever the course of history.

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I was born and raised in Roseland, where my mother still resides. Upon visiting her last week, I was reminded that the annual “Run For The Roses 5K” is scheduled for this coming weekend, an event that I hold dear to my heart.

As a young girl, this was the very first race I attempted to run, and although I had to walk a good portion of it, I recall the encouragement I received from another runner that day.

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Last weekend, on a beautiful Spring Day, I stopped briefly to watch a scene unfold on a baseball diamond in the middle of Central Park. Two local teams faced off in a hotly contested Little League game (this is New York – everything is hotly contested!). 

As one young boy got up to bat, I noticed his father pacing nervously near the dugout, yelling out instructions. When he finally struck out, costing his team the game, the young boy threw his bat against the fence in a fit of pique, and stormed off the field. The father tried in vain to console him. “But I already told you,” the boy admonished his father, “I’m no good at this! Forget it. I can’t.” Now I’m sure this young boy was good at lots of things, but in this moment, he felt like a total failure.

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When I was a sophomore at Boston College, feeling lost in a sea of J.Crew-clad students and thrown off by a breakup with my first real boyfriend, I decided to take up running. Because I’m the kind of person who doesn’t like doing things by halves (or getting dumped, for that matter), I set a goal that would answer any lingering doubts I had about myself. I would do more than just start running. I’d take on the beast: the Boston Marathon.

The first time I went for a run, I could barely breathe. I’d never done track, never played a competitive sport, and almost didn’t make it to the end of the block. But I wanted desperately to do this, to do something extraordinary. So I just kept going out. And while I couldn’t make it around the block at first, the next time I’d get as far as the fire hydrant, then the tree. Little by little, I began to see hopeful signs. I started to think, maybe I can do this.

After months of hitting the pavement daily, plugging away even through bone-chilling Boston sleet and biting wind, I did complete that marathon. Sixteen years later, I’ve run more than 40 such races worldwide: New York, Chicago, Berlin, Stockholm, Dublin, and St. Louis, to name a few. The act of training for and running marathons has taught me so much about what it takes to set a goal, maintain focus, and follow through and I’ve drawn on these lessons countless times in all areas of life.

Now, in my work as a life and career coach, I help clients who, like me, struggle with finding motivation. And guess what? The marathon metaphor serves as a great teacher. You don’t have to run one to know what resistance feels like. No matter what your particular finish line, the lessons ring true. Try these strategies to help you meet your own goals in stride.

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