I didn’t want to do it.

I didn’t want to do the last one. So I didn’t.

This time felt a lot like last time.

Until it didn’t.

I crossed the finish line of the 50k a few seconds after the 4 hour mark. A personal record for my own running and about 20 minutes ahead of second place.

The trail was a 5.2 mile loop through a marsh in Wilmington, North Carolina.

I won. Frankly, it wasn’t even close. A dominating performance.

But it wasn’t going to happen.

Earlier in the week, I was in a funk. Ask Sara. She’ll tell you. I can be a handful.

Like the previous race I dropped out of, I was pretty set on dropping out of this one as well.

I didn’t feel like driving 5 hours to the event, running the event, and then driving those five hours back home. After a busy week of international business dealings and stressful negotiations, I just wanted to chill out and do “less”.

Actually, that’s not completely true.

I wanted to run. But I got freaked out when I thought about how much it was going to hurt.

In fact, when Sara asked me why I didn’t want to go, I told her: “If I go, I have to win.”

Which was the craziest thing she had ever heard: “Why can’t you just go and have fun? You’re doing all of this training, go enjoy yourself.”

But I wasn’t listening.

I decided that I didn’t want to accept the “hurt” it would take to run fast enough to win.

Sara wasn’t having any of it. “We’re going,” she said. “We’re going. Pack up your shit. Put it in the car. I’ll take care of everything else.”

And she did.

Snacks for the kids. A tent. Sleeping bags.

Mattress pads to go under the sleeping bags.

Water bottles. And extra battery packs so the kids could watch their Netflix.

“Get in.” She said. “Let’s go.”

So we went. 5 hour ride there. A few hours in a hotel room. Up at 5 a.m. to get ready and head to the event. 4 hours of crewing for me. Another 5 hour drive home.

It was the most fun I have ever had running a race.

By far.

And it almost didn’t happen. It wasn’t going to happen.

Until someone close to me pushed me beyond the limits of my comfort to do what they believed was possible for me.

That’s the story you never hear about.

The person behind the person.

The motivation behind achievement. That person willing to fight you to make sure you do something awesome.

Game on. Who are you going to fight to make sure they reach their full potential?