There’s plenty of pie for everyone

They had already canceled the game, but I was still in the press box, finishing up some interviews as baseball season in Buffalo continued to drown in April rain, snow, and for good measure, an ice storm. But someone left the right channel on the TV and I caught the final few miles of the Boston Marathon.

Desi Linden was going to win. The first American woman to win in 33 years. It felt like such a cool moment.

Turns out, it was just the beginning of the cool moment.

As I read more about the day’s events on Twitter, Desi’s story started to take shape. Turns out, in her post-race comments, she said she wasn’t feeling great early in the race and decided to stay back when fellow American Shalane Flannigan made a quick bathroom stop. Desi slowed up so she could help Shalane get back to the field.

“I said if there’s anything I can do to help you out, let me know because I might just drop out,” Desi said in a USA Today article. “When you work together you never know what’s going to happen. Helping her helped me and kind of got my legs back from there.”

Twitter blew up with love for Desi about this act of sportsmanship. Then, Twitter reminded us that in November 2017, when Shalane won the New York City Marathon, Desi offered congratulations and Shalane answered back with “Now it’s your turn.”

It was one amazing day to be a runner, particularly a female runner.

Those of us who came of age in the late 80s and early 90s heard the same thing, over and over again, if we wanted to go into a male dominated field for our career:

  1. You had to be twice as good as the men.
  2. There was room for only one woman in an organization.

I could count the ways this advice was destructive as a whole, and for me personally, but let’s focus on the last piece, the idea that there’s only room for one woman to succeed at a time. That life is pretty much a zero-sum game. That means if you succeed, I don’t. That means women must compete against each other to crush each other because if you get something, then I can’t have it. There is only one piece of the pie.

It never occurred to me to ask why we couldn’t just order a second pie.

But other women have asked that question. And they’ve demanded more — from themselves, their friends, and their competitors. And friends and competitors don’t need to be mutually exclusive.

Desi and Shalane gave us a great example of this.

Of course each of them wants to win. That’s the goal of any elite runner, any person who makes their living professionally as a marathoner. You need top finishes. You need wins. That’s literally how you earn your living.

Still, there’s room for compassion. There’s room for teamwork. There’s this amazing ability of competition to bring out the best in you without having to crush your opponent.

Desi stopped to help Shalane because she didn’t think it was her day. Maybe she could turn a bad race for herself into a win for Shalane.

Turns out, taking a moment to slow down and regroup was just what her body needed. She didn’t win in spite of helping another runner. She won because she helped another runner.

Service. It’s a topic I’ve been thinking about a lot the past two years. How can I serve other people? How can I help? And you know what? The more I allow myself to focus on helping someone else, the easier my own training becomes. The easier my own life becomes. Because I’m no longer wrapped up inside my own head.

It’s fitting we get this story from the world of running this Monday which kicks off National Volunteer Week. Service can take all kinds of forms — from volunteering your time with an organization to picking up trash in your neighborhood to offering a smile and patience when you’re line at the grocery store. It can be waiting for your friend, and competitor, take a bathroom break in the marathon so you can run her back to the field.

It can take the form of celebrating and lifting up other successful people (especially women lifting up other women) because you see, there’s plenty for everyone. We can always buy another pie.