“Crossing the starting line may be an act of courage, but crossing the finish line is an act of faith. Faith is what keeps us going when nothing else will. Faith is the emotion that will give you victory over your past, the demons in your soul, and all of those voices that tell you what you can and cannot do and can and cannot be.”
— John Bingham
Lately, this blog has been more about running than writing, but two activities are so interconnected in my mind, it’s nearly impossible to keep them separate. And the biggest obstacle in both running and writing is self-doubt.
One axiom in marathoning is that every mile past 18 is twice as hard as the one before it. Writing can feel the same way. Maybe six weeks ago, I was experiencing a massive internal struggle about the ending of the book I’ve been working on for over a year. In terms of the story, I was at about mile 22 or 23, and my pace was lagging. Each successive chapter was taking twice as much mental and emotional effort as the chapter before it. I was still making progress, but my self-doubt was making it was a slow, hard, excruciating slog.
At the same time, I was in the home stretch of preparing for my fall “goal race,” the St. George Marathon. My training was spot-on. For the first time ever, I was working with a coach, and we were both happy with my training runs. I’d put in the time and run the miles. I felt faster and stronger than I ever had before. I just knew I was gonna crush it.
The contrast was striking.
One evening, as I was trying to psych myself up to face the dreaded blank screen again, I asked nobody in particular: Why is this so hard? I came up with two answers:
- Because I still wasn’t sure how the story was going to end.
- Because I was afraid that, no matter how I wrapped things up, the result was still going to suck.
At one point or another, I think all writers experience this same self-doubt. Probably all runners do, too.
Then, I got a lucky break. One of my fabulous writing group buddies made an offhand comment to a random passage in my latest chapters. It was apropos of nothing, but the comment sparked an idea, which germinated into a fragment of a scene, which got me looking at my story from a slightly different angle. Later that night, I went out for a run to clear my head. I decided to run “naked,” which meant no watch, no earbuds, no music. As I pounded the pavement with my headlamp blazing, the solution to my whole problem suddenly revealed itself. Everything clicked, and I knew exactly how the book was going to end.
But would it suck?
Who knew? I wrote a quick outline of the ending, and then began a series of revisions to earlier chapters to give the new idea room to happen.
Meanwhile, race day finally arrives. As I shivered in the starting corral on Highway 18 in Central, Utah—staring down the barrel of my most ambitious 26.2 yet—I thought again about how difficult it was to embark on each marathon journey. You never know how things will turn out, whether your body will surprise you or betray you, and that uncertainty is always frightening. It’s the same feeling I get when I type “Chapter 1” and start writing a new novel. What’s going to happen? Will I be able to finish? Will it suck?
The St. George Marathon is a runner’s race, not a spectator’s one. Aside from the final three miles, there are very few places where people can cheer on the competitors. Because of this, many friends and family members set up signs the night before the race to encourage runners as they pass. Somewhere around mile 20, I passed a sign on the side of the road that said, “Starting takes courage, finishing takes faith.” The sign was a paraphrase of the John Bingham quote above, and it immediately clicked for me.
Inspired and invigorated, I pushed even harder and finished strong, getting a personal-best time of 3:05:28, which is nearly 20 minutes faster than my threshold to qualify for Boston in 2021.
After St. George, I took a little time off running to allow my body to recover. I’ve been writing like crazy, cranking out chapter after chapter as I cruise around the home stretch. Also, I’m reworking some internal chapters to eliminate dead-end story threads and connect what comes earlier with what comes later. The story isn’t perfect yet, but at least it’s getting written.
In writing, as in running, we need to overcome our self-doubt. We need to have the courage to start and the faith to finish.
Period.
