In response to my last blog, Paul Lindsay wrote, “Ah, another example of ‘take time to smell the roses.’ If you were healthy and in full race mode, would you have enjoyed the temples of Angkor Wat as much?”

No, I wouldn’t have enjoyed the scenery and people as much if I was running flat out. Thanks to the slow run that was forced on me by injury, I ended up “smelling the roses,” really enjoying the experience, and getting some good photos. However, there’s also something I didn’t get, and that’s the satisfaction of pushing myself hard and seeing just how fast I could go.

Smelling the roses may bring “enjoyment,” but it doesn’t bring the kind of “fulfillment” that results from pushing ourselves out of our comfort zone, giving it all we’ve got, and doing our best at something. Richard Branson enjoys smelling the flowers on his private island of Necker, but he also told me, “Whatever you’re doing in life, just push yourself to the limits. I don’t like to get too comfortable. I like to push and see what I’m capable of, and I think people get more satisfaction if they live their lives in that way.”

I think he’s right. So, do both. Sometimes go for the “enjoyment” of stopping and smelling the roses. Other times go for the “fulfillment” of pushing yourself to the limits and knowing, “I did it!”

I’ve always wanted to see Cambodia and its temples of Angkor Wat, the lost civilization that was rediscovered in the jungle. So, when my wife and I heard there was an Angkor Wat half-marathon, we rushed to sign up. Not only would we see the wonderful old temples, we would get to run around them. And it was for a good cause – artificial limbs for landmine survivors.

But then, two weeks before the race, I pulled a calf muscle on a run and could barely limp home. So, should we cancel the trip and do it next year, or persist and see if I could finish the run, even walking? No brainer. Persist!

Doctors say that runners make terrible patients. They should really call us “impatients,” because we’re so impatient we won’t stop running long enough to heal. And that same impatience also makes us go out too fast at the beginning of a race. I’d done it before with a minor calf injury – didn’t let it heal and went out too fast at the start of the next race – and the minor injury turned into a major one when searing pain brought me to a crashing halt halfway to the finish line.

This time I needed to squelch the desire to run a fast time. But how? The answer was sitting on the table in front of me. My camera! Maybe carrying a camera might shift my mindset from fast-run-mode to photo-mode. So, I tried it on race day and it worked. I kept stopping to take photos, which gave my calf a break, and focusing on the people and scenery took my mind off the pain.

I talked to the local people lining the road and high-fived the kids. My male ego didn’t even get pissed off that other runners were passing me, because now I viewed them as photo subjects rather than competitors. As I hobbled over the finish line, it was one of my slowest times, but I didn’t even care because I had such a great time. And I have some good photos that would not have happened without the injury.

Adversity really sucks, but not being able to do one thing often pushes us to problem solve and try something else that results in a different kind of success. As the great Dale Carnegie once said, “When life hands you lemons, make lemonade.”

(Click here to see a few photos of the run, people and temples.)

Yesterday my wife Baiba and I ran the Rio de Janeiro marathon (26 miles/42 kilometers) and we are now officially in the 7-Continents Marathon Club. Interestingly, fewer people (338) have run marathons on all seven continents than have gone into space (499), or reached the top of Mt. Everest (2,249). I’m not sure which of these three groups is crazier. Here’s my story and it’s all about PUSH.

The Rio marathon was a beautiful course along the ocean, but very tough due to heat, humidity, and hills. The important thing was to finish and get into the 7-Continents Club, not to run a fast time, so I just cruised along.

Then at the halfway mark a quick calculation told me I might be able to finish in just under 4 hours (a lot slower than my best time of 2 hours, 43 minutes, but those days are over). Suddenly I had a new goal, but it could only be achieved by maintaining my current pace. Even a second slower per mile and I’d finish in over 4 hours.

No sooner had I set the goal, when along came big hills and windy sections and I was losing 15 to 30 seconds a mile. To make up for it, I had to run faster on the downhills, with the risk of pulling a leg muscle and blowing any chance of making it to the finish line and into the Club.

I just kept pushing and with 6 miles (10km) to go, it looked like an under 4-hour finish was still possible, but not easy, because at that point in a marathon all your energy reserves are gone and you “hit the wall.” It’s why cycling champion Lance Armstrong said running a marathon was “the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

It became a fight between mind and body. My legs kept saying, “This is agony. Slow down you idiot. Who cares if you finish in 3:59 or 4:01?” My mind countered with, “You’ll regret it if your finishing time is 4-something, and if you’d just pushed harder it could have been 3-something.”

My mind won the argument, I threw caution to the wind, pushed as hard as I could, passed hundreds of other runners who were limping or walking, and crossed the finish line in 3:59:56 – 4 seconds under 4 hours. Whew! Then I puked.

Apparently, running coaches used to have a bucket handy during practice and they would tell the runners, “If you don’t puke in the bucket, you haven’t pushed yourself hard enough.” Push is a big key to success at anything in life, including running all seven continents, and I guess I pushed hard enough yesterday.

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Info on 7-Continents Marathon Clubs.
sevencontinentsclub.com
icemarathon.com

Recently I wrote, “What’s the difference between a challenge and a goal? Challenges are goals with fear and adrenaline added. A challenge has to scare you a little.” Jackie Tunbridge-Glacer replied, “Great definition, being the President of my Rotary club was a big challenge, with lots of adrenaline. Richard your talk and book are what pushed me to do it. My year as President was amazing, and I thank you for telling me to live outside my comfort zone.”

Well Jackie, a big congratulations for pushing yourself and becoming President of your Rotary club. When we’re thinking of doing something that takes us to the next level, suddenly there are fears and voices in our heads that try to stop us. There’s the voice of self-doubt, “What if I’m not good enough to do this?” There’s the fear of failure, “What if I fall flat on my face?” There’s the voice of shyness, “I’m afraid to speak in front of all those people.” At the same time, there’s the dream in our heads that says, “I want to do this. I think I can do it.” So there’s this constant battle between the fears and the dream. The easiest route is to give in to the fears, because that’s life as usual. No going out on a limb. No effort required. We just stay in our safe little comfort zone and talk ourselves out of the dream.

The other route is to push through the fears, take action, and start to move towards the dream. And it’s never easy. Sure, at first we feel great. It’s like those first few days on vacation when we’re going down a different road and it’s new and exciting. But then the car breaks down, or we hit a dead-end, and the fears start to win again: “Why am I doing this? I could just stop! This is too much work!” And rest assured, those fears will always return. It’s not easy to continually make the effort to push through and keep going, but it’s the only way to reach the dream, and it’s always worth it in the end. That’s why I have great respect for anybody who pushes themselves to the next level. So, here’s to you, Jackie. Keep on pushing.

When Susan Boyle walked onto the stage of Britain’s Got Talent, the audience saw a dowdy, middle-aged woman who announced she was unemployed, had never been married, and “never been kissed.” They instantly wrote her off as having no chance of success as a singer. But when I saw Susan I suspected she’d be great. Why? Because she’s not great-looking. She’s an ALP, an Average-Looking Person, and my research shows that the top people in any field are usually ALPs, not BLPs or Beautiful-Looking People.

Yes, contrary to popular belief, being good-looking doesn’t lead to success and may even hinder it. My book Stupid, Ugly, Unlucky, and RICH has many examples. But you don’t have to believe me. Just go on the web and look at photos of the world’s richest people (of course, money isn’t the only indicator of success, but it’s one of them). It’s hard to find a good-looking billionaire. Bill Gates, Warren Buffett, and Rupert Murdoch are not head turners, just average people you wouldn’t look at twice. And even though they’re among the world’s top CEOs, they would never be chosen by a Hollywood casting agent to play the part of a CEO in a movie or TV show. They’re simply not good-looking enough. Of course, Hollywood has it all wrong. In the real world, it’s the average-looking people who make it to the top.

Why do average-looking people finish ahead of the beautiful ones? Because many beautiful people sit back in their comfort zones, rest on their looks, and float through life. Doors are opened for them. They get the best seats at restaurants. They automatically get noticed, so they never learn to do the 8 things that really will help them succeed, like WORK hard and PUSH themselves. Meanwhile, the average-looking people, like Susan Boyle, have to work their butts off and keep pushing themselves in order to get noticed – and in the end that takes them further than looks ever would. I’m not saying good looks won’t help you get a date. I’m just saying, if you want to succeed, the top 8 Success Factors are much more important than looks. PERSIST is one of those factors and it took Susan Boyle, this average-looking woman, 47 years of persistence to be able to sing like an angel, blow an audience away, and prove herself. Hats off to Susan!