The Race

This story was told by a participant in one of my leadership workshops. Although I have forgotten her name, I have never forgotten her story:

When I was in High school, I ran the 100-meter tack and field event. I was the fastest runner in my school. In fact, I was the best in our league. But, I was not the best in the State. For three years in a row I finished second at our State Championship Event, loosing each time to a girl named Lori Anne Bozeman. Now at the end of my senior year, I was facing her again.

I knew that this was my last chance to come home with the first place trophy. I was scared, but determined not to be intimidated by my previous performance against this awesome competitor.

I hated Lori Anne Bozeman. I am sure she was a nice enough person off of the track. But she had a menacing way of glancing over at me at the start on the race and making me loose my confidence.

My father, who had always been my greatest fan and unofficial mentor, coached me on how to keep calm and not let Lori Anne dampen my confidence. He traveled internationally as part of his job so most of his support came via the telephone. Still, I loved my father’s advice and, though I missed his presence at my meets, I always knew he was thinking about me.

This year’s State Championship was no different. On a business trip to England, my father called me daily to give me pep talks. We reviewed how I would focus on my own race and not look over at Lori Anne. I told him I would think of him and try my best not to get rattled.

But I was rattled. As I sat on the bleachers on that hot May afternoon, waiting for my event to be called, I was afraid of freezing up, afraid of disappointing my coach, afraid of disappointing myself.

At 6:30 my event was called. I slowly walked to the start and after a brief warm-up, positioned myself against the starting blocks. This was it! - just Lori Anne and me. I never missed my dad more.

The starter told us to take our marks. I took a deep breath and ------looked over at Lori Anne. That did it. My confidence started to fall. I suddenly remembered every past state championship and knew I was doomed for second place again.

Then, as the starter raised the gun, I looked over into the stands. There, standing against the chain link fence just behind the starter, was my dad.

I won the state championship that day and took home my 1st place trophy. My Dad had found a way to be there with me, and so I in turn, found a way to push myself beyond my fears and self-doubt.

My father had a hundred valid reasons for not being at that race. He had contracts to negotiate, meetings to conduct and dinners with clients to attend. But he knew this was my day and that in order for me to be successful, he needed to be there for support. Now that I manage a staff of my own, I try to remember that lesson. Because I know that the most important part of my job is often the simple act of showing up.

“The best inheritance a leader can give to his followers is a few minutes of his time each day.” -M. Grundler