part0013

L ife is a marathon, not a sprint. This is an overused cliché, but clichés are born from the reality of circumstance and experience. Endurance, tenacity, and perseverance are required of those who want to go the distance and finish well. Perseverance is a core trait present in all great leaders, it allows them to keep going when times get tough. Their tenacity keeps everyone else going too—all the way to the goal. They appreciate the opportunities that are accessed only along the difficult path and know that potential and perseverance are linked.

In an earlier chapter, I shared that I have always pushed myself to be better than my previous self—always striving for more, continuously driven to accomplish more. Whatever I think will be an end is just another pushing off point. That’s because success is not something at which you ever arrive. Progress requires moving forward, seizing new opportunities and all the challenges that come with them. Having the ability to persevere when things are not going well is something I value in others and goad myself along. How do you deal with adversity? Can you claw your way through a trying time? Tenacity creates a certain resiliency that keeps you pushing towards vision, come what may.

Since my college days I had been an on-again, off-again, recreational runner. When I moved to Chicago back in 1993, my then neighbor, an avid runner, began urging me to run with him over and over. I took him up on it, and from that point I considered myself to be a “casual runner,” (though not a “serious runner”). Some days I would run with my neighbor, but often enough I ran on my own—with no music—just me, myself and I. My work life was pretty intense. Add to that raising the two kids we had at the time (with one on the way) and all the things that go with life, and running provided quality time for me to be alone and process my thoughts, reflect about life and family, work and strategy. I grew to love this almost meditative time alone. It was good for both my physical and mental health. On a rare occasion I might extend my run to 7 miles, but in reality, I was a 3–5-mile guy.

By 1999, my occasional 3–5 miles became a regular 5–7 miles, most often at 5 a.m. I loved the quiet time, the incredible wakening of each day in this way. The Sunday before Thanksgiving, a friend asked me to run the Seattle Marathon with him. Full of bravado and confidence I said, “Sure! Why not? What the heck!” and the following week, I ran a marathon. I went from running 20–25 miles in a week to running 26 miles at one stretch. Physically, it wasn’t all that bad. I was fine, though admittedly I could not walk up any stairs for the next two days, but it was all good. The run was more about mental fortitude. It was about tenacity and perseverance. (Posting a time of 4:01 to complete the marathon was not bad either!) It was about why not, not why. For me, at least, it was about experiencing great challenge—physical and mental—to offset and test myself against the relatively easy life we have, with nearly anything we want at a hand’s length access.

Running played an important role in my fight against cancer. I ran every single day, no matter how tired I felt from treatments. My 5–7 miles averaging 7.5 minutes per mile or so eventually dwindled down to 2–3 miles per day and about 12 minutes per mile, but I never conceded. My assistant had a running t-shirt made for me that had the words “Optimism” and “Fortitude” on the front, “Perseverance” on the sleeves, and “Tenacity” emblazoned across the back. No matter how sick I was, I ran every day in that shirt. I have since given that shirt to two of my friends who have also been stricken with cancer, and both times when their treatments were done they mailed it back. This shirt has come to represent hope and optimism. It has become a standard. Persevere. Fight. Win.

Post-cancer I kept thinking, Can I give back? Can I make a difference? Make an impact? Honestly, I wanted to find ways to acknowledge how thankful I was to be alive and still standing tall. What better way than to train for and run another marathon? I had not trained for my last marathon and did pretty well. I thought if I trained, then perhaps I could qualify for the Boston marathon. It seemed like a smart idea.

In the spring of 2008, I began looking for a marathon to run that was as close as possible to the date of my original cancer diagnosis. I decided I would raise money for the cause by running. I looked for a cancer organization that either helped those stricken with cancer in treatment or in finding cures. I told a very good friend, John Colocousis, about my plan and he said, “That sounds like an incredible journey. Mind if I run and raise funds with you?”

So together we trained. John was an avid marathoner and had finished many, while I had but one to my record (and that was on a whim). I made an assumption that training with him would do me wonders. As often happens, the plan did not go as smoothly as I envisioned. We signed up for Livestrong, the charity, and trained hard. We came across “The Skagit Valley Marathon” in Washington State scheduled for September 7, 2008. Both my friend and I lived in Dallas, but we agreed this was the right event, so we committed to be there and began training. I had some chronic back pain issues, but the challenges came and went, so I pressed through them.

The marathon approached. The day before the race, we flew from Dallas to Seattle, drove two hours to Skagit, registered to run, and hydrated. All 248 runners were ready. Yep, you read that correctly, 248 runners! The course was 13 miles out and back. It was hard to find enough volunteers to tend to the needs of 248 runners, and it was a Boston qualifying marathon to boot! I finished, but it was not pretty. My back went south early in the day. Training with my friend did not work out as well as I had hoped, and in the end, I ran the marathon and finished about 10 minutes SLOWER than my first marathon (which I never really trained for). That said, between John and me we raised nearly $45,000 for Livestrong. We flew home on the red-eye that night, and in spite of my slower time of 4:11, we felt pretty good about the accomplishment of finishing and raising funds for a good cause.

If at first you fail to succeed, try, try again. We had done pretty well with the fundraising, so I decided to do it again. This time around I would shoot for raising the same amount of money, but perhaps change up the training, not injure myself along the way, and take another shot at running a sub-four hour marathon. The New York City Marathon was only about a month past my second-anniversary date, so on that second anniversary of being cancer free, I decided I would try again.

November 7, 2009 was meant to be my “sub-4 hour” marathon. By this time, I was living in Detroit during the week at the helm of Moosejaw and commuting back to Dallas each weekend. This was not ideal for training, and I didn’t have John to partner with except on weekends, so I just persevered on my own. I want to say another day, another dollar … or maybe another step, another mile, but it really did not go that way. While I did run, train, and make the most of the pre-marathon time to get ready, it did not work out so well.

Getting older is just no fun. My body was not recovering as I wanted it to. I trained. I did yoga for three months to strengthen my back and saw a few professionals along the way, trying to keep it together. My back doctor prescribed some medication to help with inflammation and spasms. I took these intermittently as needed, but trudged ahead, preparing for the big day. On my last training run, I ran nearly 26 miles, but it wasn’t pretty. I hoped I was ready. I was as ready as I was going to be.

The day dawned cold and windy. It was more blustery than it had been for any NYC Marathon in some time. This go around, not only did John Colocousis join me, but Bryan Lively and Alison Norton did as well. The four of us made up “Team Cancer Sucks” and once again, we ran for Livestrong. With great excitement we arrived at the starting line at 6:00 a.m. We agreed we would run together for the first mile, but John had a great training regiment, as did Cous (Bryan) as he was known, so we knew they would quickly outpace Alison and me. We were each committed to finish strong.

I ran okay for the first 7–8 miles, but by mile 9, I was in trouble. I was already experiencing pain and spasms in my back. I persevered for a bit, but it became (painfully) obvious I was in trouble. I had the presence (or stupidity) of mind to bring along the remaining prescription for pain and spasms, and with the help of these at about mile 14, I did plod through. The highlight was my bride waiting there for me at mile 16 as I came across the 61st Street Bridge and circled the cloverleaf as it came around. I am not even sure how I could have seen her with the 100,000 people who were there at that point in the run. It was schizophrenic and chaotic, but with all those people cheering the runners, equally as energizing. Somehow in spite of the thousands of people, I saw my wife! She kissed me and on I went. At about mile 22 I again saw her again as I began to enter Central Park and she willed me to go on. Let’s just say it was NOT the sub-4 hour run I had hoped for. In fact, it was 4:26—even slower than Skagit Valley, but I did finish. I persevered and I finished. Later that night, the four of us and our spouses celebrated together. We raised nearly $50,000 and had made a difference.

The story isn’t really about finishing the race. It isn’t even about raising money or doing good, though these things are all really important. The story illustrates the power of perseverance. It demonstrates that you can do nearly anything you put your mind to. It would have been easy enough to quit that day. No one would have thought any less of me for yielding to the pain in my body and sitting out the remainder of the race. I could have stopped at any point and the pain would have eased, but I would have regretted that decision the moment I made it. I would have walked if I had to, crawled even, but I was determined I would persevere to the end. I pushed through the wall to fulfill my commitment. I wanted to make a difference, not an exit. Together, the four of us made an impact, and in some small way, hopefully helped make life a bit easier for those stricken with cancer or fighting to find cures.

When I battled cancer, my tenacity gave me the ability to push back in my own mind. I could look at all the facts and still say, “I will win. Cancer won’t.” Pushing myself to run while I was sick helped me persevere. In the beginning, I didn’t know if the cancer would come back in a year or two years … or never. So I celebrate each anniversary trying to raise funds for the cause. I started by running those marathons to raise money, and now for four years in a row I have been riding a bike in charity events in Seattle and across six events, I have been able to raise almost $500k.

I’m very active in my fundraising, I’m even okay with calling and emailing all my friends and killing them with requests for funds. I preface these appeals with, “I’m sorry if I am making you crazy, but we are curing cancer here—it’s literally a matter of life and death.” My passion for this cause is backed up by what I am willing to sacrifice for it. That kind of perseverance pays off.

The Latin root for the word tenacity is “tenax ” which means “holding fast.” Leaders hold fast to vision. They hold fast to goals and ideals. Good leaders hold fast to their values. The world transforms more quickly than at any period ever before in the history of man. The pace of change has grown too rapid for most to even keep up, there is unprecedented uncertainty. It is in this climate that leaders must hold fast. They must demonstrate the character to sustain commitment in tough, tumultuous times. This quality of tenacity instills confidence in those who look to you for guidance and inspiration. They know you won’t give up, so they won’t either. When you push to be the best you can be, you encourage others to do the same.

Dr. Travis Bradberry said, “Grit is that ‘extra something’ that separates the most successful people from the rest. It’s the passion, perseverance, and stamina that we must channel in order to stick with our dreams until they become a reality.” Don’t be too quick to jump ship or throw in the towel. Find a way to push through the challenges. Develop relentless persistence. Endure the punches and never leave the ring. When perseverance is added to passion, great things are possible.

Tenacity, however, should never be confused with stubbornness. Enduring adversity and persevering through challenges is not the same as holding to an outdated method of doing things or clinging to old ways of thinking when challenged by fresh thought. Therefore, in our discussion of tenacity and all its merits, it is relevant to bring up the subject of diversity, and consider how mindsets and strategies to overcome obstacles must also be applied to embracing new approaches. Staying on task need not be in opposition to learning and growing.