Rosie arched her back and stretched her arms over her head. “I’m gonna run the next Boston Marathon.”

“Wow! That’s a big race. Do you have time to get ready,” inquired her skeptical neighbor, Tisha.

Rosie smirked. "Girl, I stay ready!"

Unsure of Rosie's confidence, Tisha asked, “Have you been training? That’s coming up pretty soon, isn’t it?”

“Training is for suckers! Ain’t nobody got time to run that much. Besides, it hurts running that far too many times.”

Tisha furrowed her brow. “So . . . you’re just gonna run it for fun?”

Rosie scoffed. “Fun? Ain’t nothin’ fun ‘bout losin’. I’m gonna win that thing.”

Tisha took a deep breath and cautiously asked, “Win? You mean, beat your best time?”

“Naw, girl. I’m gonna beat everyone!”

Thinking her friend had lost her mind, she asked, “Beat everyone? Are you serious? Have you seen how fast some of those dudes are?”

Rosie laughed. “Get real, Tisha. I’m not gonna win the whole thing. I’m just gonna win the women’s category.”

~~~~~~~~~~

I’m not exactly sure how the conversation went or who she ran that idea by, but I reckon it was something along those lines.

I do know that at some point before April 21, 1980, 26-year-old New York resident Rosie Ruiz decided to forgo all that miserable running and just skip to the last mile of the Boston Marathon to finish strong and be declared the winner.

As a leader, what pain are you avoiding?

What pain are you trying to help others avoid and robbing them of their potential eventual victory?

Leading hurts. Take your bumps and bruises to improve, and allow others to do the same.