You Can't Cheat Boston: Strategies for Running and Business Leadership

by Ward White, Vollmer Public Relations Chief Strategy Officer
Listen to the podcast

Ward's Results:  I was an official finisher (whew) which was my goal.  Time -- 5:49.  "Every five years"-- still intact.  "That's my max -- I was trained, ran my race per plan and am elated.  A perfect day and a perfect result."

"You gotta be nuts!"

That’s a standard reaction when someone learns that I’m running the Boston Marathon on April 19^th. 

“Not crazy,” I say, “just persistent.”

This will be my third time to do Boston, following up on finishes in 2000 and 2005.  “Every five years” is the plan.   I started ten years ago when I turned 60 – just to see if I could do it.  I’m still seeing if I can do it. 

My personal mantra these days is this – “You can’t cheat Boston.”  This saying is the lodestone that guides my training.  Increasingly, I’m finding it also shaping my business thinking and even my life decisions.

Some marathons try to make it easy for the runner.  They’re designed to be as fast and undemanding as possible.  At Chicago, New York, San Diego, Houston, many of the other big marathons, the modest incline of a bridge or an overpass is the nearest thing you’ll find to a hill.

Boston, that’s something different.  The Boston Marathon is cruel.  It is uncaring, unrelenting, unforgiving -- a tough, twisty, windy, hilly 26.2 miles.  The course is like a roller coaster or a motorcross track -- up and down, up and down, almost all the way. 

In Hopkinton, just after the start, you’re smack into an eight percent grade, a steep pitch  for even the mountain stages of the Tour de France.  The really treacherous section, the famed Heartbreak Hill, isn’t a hill at all, but rather four hills that begin at Mile 16 and peak at Mile 21.  This toughest stretch comes at the three-quarters mark, when the runner is running on fumes, energy tank on empty.

Bad weather frequently makes things worse.  The forecast for this marathon weekend is temperatures in the 30s and 40s, with icy rain and possibly sleet.  The rain can be nasty but not as bad as struggling against winds off the Atlantic, gusts that always seem to be in your face. 

I started training for Boston in October of last year, six months in advance, a pretty standard regimen.  Why so long?  If NFL, NBA and baseball players can get in shape in a matter of weeks, why do marathon runners need six months?

The centerpiece of marathon training is the long run.  My regimen called for short runs  several times a week, mostly 3-6 miles, highlighted by a long run once a month.  The long runs gradually increase – 8 miles, then 10, then 12, then a half-marathon, then 15, 18 and finally a 20-miler. 

The principal goal of training is not to make your leg muscles stronger, increase your lung capacity, raise your pain tolerance or lower your pulse rate.  No, it’s all about building capillaries.  Capillaries are tiny blood vessels, the minute twigs at the end of the circulatory system.  They deliver oxygen and other fuel, and they remove waste.

A single capillary is so narrow that it can handle only one drop of blood at a time.  Molecules pass through the capillary’s thin wall – energy-boosting oxygen and glucose  coming in and energy-draining lactic acid waste being removed.  Though scientists disagree precisely how much capillaries increase, it seems that marathon runners have 40% more capillaries than inactive types.  More capillaries mean more fuel arriving and more heat and waste departing.  No capillaries, no fuel. 

Six months of weekly running and especially the long runs build the capillary system.  You’ve got to put in the running time, you’ve got to grow those blessed little caps, you’ve got to pay your dues.  There’s no way around it.  You’ve got to pay the price in training, or you’ll pay a frightful price on race day. 

When an untrained runner tries a marathon, someone who hasn’t paid the training price, the capillary system is not developed enough to fuel the big leg muscles.  A cell without fuel will die.  Muscles will cramp, tie into knots.  If you’ve ever had a leg cramp in the middle of the night, you know that sharp, shooting pain.  A lack of fuel and a build-up of lactic acid waste will force you to stop.  The body wisely prevents your muscles from going energy-deprived.  Instead, the body just stops. 

That’s what I mean when I say, “You can’t cheat Boston.”  If you want to run the race, you’ve got to pay your dues long in advance.  It doesn’t matter who you know or who you’re related to or how much money you have.  There are no short-cuts, no special deals, no quick fixes. 

“You can’t cheat Boston.”  I repeat that mantra endlessly to myself whenever I’m tempted to cut short a training run or when I don’t feel like running that day.  I repeat it on race day, when my body wants to take a break, “just for a minute.”  And I find myself using it as a business mantra as well. 

“You can’t cheat Boston” means there are no short-cuts. Or rather, short-cuts are not really short-cuts.  Cutting corners only puts off paying the full price, and the cost later is usually a whole lot higher and much more painful. Do the job right.  Do the right thing. 

The first goal at Boston is to finish.  Finish the job.  A former boss of mine once said, “The three most important words in business are ‘completed staff work.’  Finish the job, be thorough, be complete.  Excellence does not allow less.

The second goal at Boston is to finish on time.  The course is closed down after six hours.  If I haven’t finished by then, my time doesn’t count, I receive no official time, I’m not officially a finisher.  It’s like I never entered.  I take this lesson to business as well.  Finish on time, meet the deadline.  If  I don’t, my work doesn’t count.  My client does care what the reasons were, my boss doesn’t care, my customer doesn’t care.  If the job’s not done on time, it’s as if the work were never done.  Cruel perhaps, but life is cruel, Boston is cruel, business is no less cruel. 

The third lesson I take from all this is the utter necessity of preparation.  I have to put in the miles.  I can’t skip the last long run.  In business, I have to keep my skills current.  I have to know my client’s business intimately.  I have to study, to be a lifelong learner, to be hungry for knowledge and understanding.   I need true expertise in my craft and in my business knowledge  “Good enough” is not good enough.  Clients respect true expertise, they value it highly and they recognize it when they see it. 

My final take-away is how essential persistence is.  A lot of success at Boston comes from just keeping going, don’t stop, don’t let up.  I know I’ve done my homework, my roadwork.  I know I haven’t cheated Boston, and on race day that gives me immense confidence on the course.  I know I can do it.  I know I can finish, because I’ve done it before, I’ve done my long runs.  A lot of success in life is about persistence, about showing up, about being totally reliable.  Persistence is a great virtue. 

Whether for a runner or an executive, there are no short-cuts.   If you want to run the race, do things the right way.  If you want to succeed in client service, in business excellence, as a CEO or an account executive, in marketing or investor relations or communications, there is no other way.  You can’t cheat Boston.  You can’t cheat yourself.  Excellence is its own reward.  And the joy of finishing is immense.