I used to be a marathon coach for beginner marathoners.
Many of my students were new to running and chose to tackle a marathon for fundraising purposes. Often someone close to them (a spouse or family member) had recently been diagnosed with cancer or another disease and they felt paralyzed and helpless.
Instead of treading water in their stress and grief, these motivated souls would register for a marathon in partnership with a research organization and fundraise for a cure.
Running 26.2 miles was the carrot to encourage people they knew to donate.
At this point in my running career, I’d been at it for almost 20 years, completing close to 30 marathons including Boston and New York City.
When I started working with new runners, I was so enthusiastic.
It brought new joy and meaning into my life at a time that I desperately needed it.
I had completed marathon coach certification training and had years of experience and success under my belt, so I was qualified to take on the unique task of working with each student and their individual needs.
It was both fun and heart-filling for me to support another runner as they trained, sacrificed and ultimately crossed the finish line.
After my first few students successfully completed marathons, more applications started piling in and coaching took on a greater role in my life. It was then that I started feeling a little nag…
I knew that I was a good coach and the students were very happy, but it had been a long time since I was a beginner marathon runner.
Sometimes I couldn’t completely relate to what they were going through. It seemed like a lifetime ago since I had experienced that same newbie struggle.
There’s a term for this, known as The Expert’s Curse.
It’s the disconnect between an expert teaching a beginner. When it’s been too long since the expert was a beginner.
The Curse started to bother me more and more so I decided I needed to become a complete beginner at something challenging, something I couldn’t do without a coach. This way I could re-experience all the beginner jitters, fears, questions and trepidation.
I hated swimming.
I knew how to swim, I learned as a kid at the local YMCA. As an adult, I could hold my own splashing around in a resort pool with a margarita in my hand. But lap swimming with goggles and my head down in a race with other swimmers also racing all around me… good lord NO.
Same with cycling. I learned to bike maybe around 6 years old, but bike racing? At that time in my life, I didn’t even own a bike.
So, in complete fear, I signed up for adult swim lessons and my first triathlon.
My experience as a rookie was completely terrifying, and PERFECT. It was exactly what I wanted.
It was the start of my complete love for the sport of triathlon. It also came with so many new friendships that are still some of my closest confidantes today, many of whom I never would have met if I wasn’t willing to scare the pants off myself and try something new.
