It was 2015. The race was the NCAA D-1 Pre-National meet in Louisville, KY. The race went out fast as my coach had told us it would. His strategy for our team was to use a little extra energy earlier on in the race to get a good position prior to settling into the pack during the middle stages of the competition. Since the course was fairly narrow after a large choke point early on, he suspected that we would use about the same amount of energy throughout the race using this approach, but be in a better overall position towards the last mile when it was time to dig deep and finish strong.
As I sit here writing this 11 years later, it seems like a logical plan created by a coach who has led multiple athletes to NCAA, national, and international success.
As I stood there on the starting line 11 years ago, I wasn’t so certain. I decided to start out more conservatively and avoid faster than typical speeds at the start. I wanted to stay in my comfort zone early and calculated that I should be able to move up later in the race. Having a background playing many sports growing up, I figured I could rely on my athleticism to be agile later on in the race, passing the poor guys that went out way too fast.
Instead of listening to my coach, I did the assignment my way. Spoiler alert: it was the wrong way. This strategy blew up in my face and led to a dismal finish in the race, despite my fullest efforts to compete hard. To make things worse, I was convinced I had done the best I could. I legitimately ran as hard as I could. I ran to the point of exhaustion at the end of the race. I expected my coach to see this and acknowledge it.
What he justly saw, however, was his athlete who had just gone rogue. He let me know about it too. I deserved, and needed to hear what he told me. Coach explained that running a race “hard” like I had is not enough to be great. Sure, it is enough to feel like you have pushed yourself and tested your limits, but if you want to do something as well as you can, you must pair your highest effort with the most correct intention.
Coach taught me a valuable lesson that day. One that has continued to ruminate in the last 11 years and counting. It is a lesson that can be applied to all aspects of life, in no way exclusive to running. I use this lesson in my marriage, as a parent, in my job, and in daily life. This purpose is woven into the way I coach and teach. Effort is futile without sound intentionality. You must be assignment correct.