Yesterday I went to mile 22-ish to cheer my daughter on at the New York City Marathon (and yes, she did great!!). As I stood on a Manhattan street corner, a sea of runners moved past me. They were all ages, sizes, and all running at different speeds. I saw a woman pushing a man in a wheelchair, and a blind man running with guides. Some people looked like they were out for a relaxed jog, while you could see the pain of every step written on the agonized faces of others.
I found myself studying the runners, looking for clues to connect a runner’s demeanor with…something. Of course, the major factor for all competitive runners is training, which I could not see. But there are other more observable differences. Some runners were running, others were doing a combination of running and walking. There were runners who had doused themselves with water, and were dripping wet, trying to stay cool on a sunny day. Shorts were worn by some; pants by others, with jackets and hats. In other words, each runner had adjusted their pace, and their environment, to their own particular needs.
In my coaching practice, I often come across clients who seem stunned when I suggest making some changes that could make life easier-reminders, alarms, a text from me as their coach-and say “I should be able to do this on my own!” Says who? Your unique brain might need something different from the brain of the guy in the cubicle next door. That doesn’t make you wrong or weak-just different. Being neurodivergent means recognizing this, and honoring it.
Let’s be clear here. The marathon is 26.2 miles, and it is not made shorter for anyone. There might be ways to mitigate those miles – taping your knees, having a great podcast cued up-but you must run each and every mile.
Work and home projects work the same way. Filing your paperwork, or cleaning out your closet, cannot be shortened if you are to bring them to completion. But listening to music, or making a game of cleaning, or body doubling with a friend, can help to support your efforts. Which isn’t cheating-it’s smart.
In the end, I have never heard of someone being disqualified from the marathon because they wore compression socks. As long as they have crossed the finish line, they are marathoners. And no one will say you didn’t send out thank you notes because you rewarded yourself with ice cream when you were done. They’ll probably say “that’s brilliant!”