Why Rob Watson continues to inspire me

There comes a time in every runner’s career when a race doesn’t go according to plan, when the weeks and weeks of training don’t translate as they should and when, for whatever reason, it all comes unhinged.

This was the story of Canadian distance runner, Rob Watson on Sunday at the New York City Marathon. As one of the top distance runners in the country, there has been a great deal of expectation, and pressure resting on Watson over the past few years. At the London Marathon this past April, he felt the crushing disappointment of failing to run the race he needed in order to have a shot at representing Canada at the Rio Olympics. It was a blow for the Vancouver-based runner, but I recall he handled with with an unwavering spirit.

This Sunday, as he lined up for his first marathon since London, I imagine he had just about every Canadian runner wishing the best for him, and perhaps even hoping for a little redemption for him after the hurt of London. But this wasn’t to be Watson’s day. By mile 23, it was clear he knew it, not because he was pouting, or scowling in anger, and not because of a DNF. It was clear he knew it because he graciously embraced not only the spirit of the New York Marathon, but the spirit of the sport itself.

The image of Watson veering to the side of the course to acknowledge his supporters at mile 23 is an image that truly captures the spirit of a runner. It’s not always about a personal best. There are far too many factors that come into play during a single running performance on any given day to allow one’s psyche to be beholden to the results of any single race. Because they are so rare, those magical moments when everything comes together on a race day cannot be the sole reason a runner runs. The commitment it takes to achieve one’s running goals has to be born out of a love for the sport, without that it seem unlikely anyone would be able to sustain the years upon years of training, and ride the accompanying highs and lows of the sport.

When I saw how Watson handled the circumstances of his race on Sunday, I was reminded of a moment while running the Nebraska Half-Marathon last month. Like Watson, this was not my day. As runners, we’re competitive. We want to run our best and and we feel that we aren’t, a host of emotions arise. Midway through my race I knew I wasn’t going to run it as fast as I had hoped on that day, but I was able to keep perspective.

I reminded myself that this was not the last race I would run. I recall feeling grateful for the chance to be racing and I didn’t allow myself to tumble into an angry, self-aggrandizing state of mind. I kept my head high, stride in motions, and when I saw my six-year-old nephew standing on the side of the course with hand extended in hopes of receiving a high-five, I enjoyed the moment of sliding to the side of the road and giving his little hand a solid clap.

In the weeks following that race, the perspective I had held during it proved more valuable than I had anticipated. The mindset I had on the course that day has allowed me to look back on the race and take away the lessons it gifted me with, and the memories it made. I carry both these lessons and memories with me as I lock into another training block. I’m encouraged when I see performances such as Watson’s along the way– where the spirit of the runner transcends the clock and humbly reminds us why we do it.