Stop running alone

Just recently at the London marathon, a 28-year old Ethiopian named Yomif Kejelcha broke the 2-hour mark for running a marathon. Up until that day, the 2-hour mark had never been achieved in any official marathon race.

But… Kejelcha didn’t win.

Another runner, Kenya’s Sebastian Sawe, also broke the 2-hour mark, 11 seconds faster than Kejelcha.

Imagine for a moment that we did something that, for all of human history, seemed impossible… only to know that someone had done it just seconds before us! Any other day and a result like this would have shaken the world, but instead, Kejelcha found himself in the the shadow of the only man who had gone slightly faster. What’s even more ridiculous is that Kejelcha’s run was also his marathon debut!

The pace of this running is unfathomable. It’s like running on a treadmill at 21kms/hr (13 miles an hour) for 2 full hours. Personally, when I’ve been on a treadmill, it feels like sprinting when I get to around 15kms an hour.

This is not the first time that an Ethiopian has done something extraordinary. Long before Kejelcha was flying through London at a ridiculous pace, another Ethiopian runner had already done the unthinkable.

In the 1960 Olympic Games in Rome, a guy called Abebe Bikila lined up to compete in the marathon race without shoes. He’d been given a pair that did not fit properly, and rather than blister his way through the streets of Rome, he chose to run barefoot, as he had often done back home. He won the marathon and set a new world record at the same time! He also became the first African athlete to win Olympic gold. I mean, you can’t make this stuff up. It’s simply extraordinary.

With just these two feats, it’s pretty clear to see that there is something special when it comes to Ethiopian runners. And, taking a closer look, we can see that they run with a different relationship to endurance. It’s one shaped by land, rhythm, restraint, discipline, and an understanding of energy that feels noticeably different from our modern obsession with data and individual output. They seem to understand running not merely as a test of personal suffering, but as a practice of energy, attention, patience, and relationships.

Running as a unit. 

Scientists have long known that birds flying in formation conserve energy by working together. Each bird benefits from the uplift created by the bird in front of it. The flock travels farther because the group creates conditions that no single bird could create alone.

Ethiopian runners seem to have adopted a similar mentality to their training. It starts with the way they understand energy; it seems to go beyond something personal and become something shared. Energy is treated almost like a living substance. It moves between people and is affected by the land, the group, the pace, the mood, the weather, and an invisible feeling that builds when a group of people are moving together toward the same purpose. In that sense, running is a collective balance of energy.

When Ethiopians train together, they run in a single line, one behind the other, moving as a worm of bodies. When a root or obstacle appeared on the path, the runner in front clicks a finger and points toward the ground, alerting everyone behind them to what’s coming.

The runner at the very front of the line carries a small responsibility for everyone behind them, and everyone behind carries the responsibility of trusting the rhythm that has been set. Following someone’s feet means matching their stride so closely that one right foot lands at the same time as the person in front and behind, and the whole body begins to shape itself around their cadence.

That idea feels very different from the way many of us are taught to think about performance. In a lot of modern work environments, we obsess over the individual effort. We measure our own work, track the data, review the performance, and ask whether each person is doing enough. Of course, there is value in measurement, but the Ethiopian approach points toward something more subtle and perhaps more human. It suggests that endurance is not only about how much energy one person can produce, but how wisely that energy is protected, sustained, and shared within the group.

I think there is something incredibly powerful in that for the way we think about resilience. We often talk about resilience as if it belongs only to the individual. It’s our mindset, our recovery, our ability to cope or keep going. And yes, all of that matters. But the truth is that our energy is constantly being shaped by the people around us. A calm person can settle a meeting. A frantic person can raise the temperature of the room.

Resilience, then, goes beyond protecting our own tank. It’s also about becoming more aware of the energy we bring into the rooms we enter, the teams we belong to, and the people we run alongside. The Ethiopian runners remind us that endurance is a rhythm created between people. And when that rhythm is protected, shared, and respected, everyone has a better chance of going further than they could have gone alone.

Three ways to put this into practice:

1. Notice our energy (awareness)
   Before a meeting, conversation, or difficult moment, pause and ask what we’re carrying in with us. Stress travels, but calm travels too. Resilience begins by understanding that our emotional state is never completely private; it affects the people running alongside us.

2. Match the rhythm first (empathy)
   There are moments when the most resilient thing we can do is not surge ahead, dominate the pace, or prove how strong we are. Sometimes we need to fall into step first, understand the group’s rhythm, and then help steady it from within.

3. Point out the roots in the road (communication)
   The runner at the front has a responsibility to warn the people behind them. In work and life, this means sharing what we see early: the pressure points, the obstacles, the risks, and the small things that might trip someone else up. But we can only help others when we’re clear and kind.

4. Build relationships (connection)

   This one is more simple than all of the others. Just noticing that we’re better as a unit is a great reason to reach out to someone this week. Grab a coffee. Make the call. Send the text. Resilience grows through relationships.

All of this sounds basic, but the group becomes stronger than the individual, which bodes well for leaders and organizations to remember. As the world becomes smaller, many of us try to tackle life's challenges in isolation by battling stress alone, and then we wonder why the burdens feel so heavy.

Time to find our flock and get moving together.

Until next time friends, stay resilient.

Carré at Resilient Minds

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PS - I help organizations, individuals, and young people build practical resilience skills to better handle life’s challenges. If you’re interested in 1:1 coaching, a team workshop, or having me speak with students or athletes at a school or sports club, hit reply and let’s chat.