Yesterday I wrote about underrated talent and encouraged you to hunt for your talents, let them breathe, nurture them.
Just now a runner came towards me on the path. Made me think of “Latschi”. Latschi probably has another name, but that’s what I always called him. He was this passionate, fast runner I’d meet on my forest loop back in Germany. Usually he’d overtake me like a hurricane in a hurry, sometimes he’d come at me from the other direction. I always wondered: How can he run that fast?
Latschi wasn’t the most talented, but he was the toughest
Latschi was biomechanically challenged. His ankle had given up its bending function, so he had to plant his foot like a field hockey stick. Didn’t look particularly elegant. His arm position was pretty unconventional too. Mostly he’d row expansively with his arms, and I can imagine he wasn’t exactly popular in the pack during running competitions. But he was a genuinely friendly person who greeted me every time with a brief runner’s nod. As a slower runner, you always appreciate being acknowledged that way by someone faster.
Latschi probably wasn’t the most naturally gifted “greyhound” type runner, but he was always out there. He ran in the harshest winter and on the hottest days. Latschi is an example of “persistence beats talent”. Sport is full of these stories. There are footballers who make it very far even though the ball doesn’t naturally stick to their feet. Many F-grade talents never make it.
When interest and time join forces
Which of your talents have been lying dormant for years?
In yesterday’s post I explained that it’s obviously ideal when you have talent for something and you’re interested in it. When you enjoy something but it doesn’t come easily, a different virtue is required: persistence and a feel for pacing. Because usually you’re in it for the marathon distance.
Staying with sport, I have another example. I was a talented swimmer as a kid, trained five times a week and spent weekends at competitions. I was talented and I loved it. I was always there, never needed an excuse. At 16 I stopped swimming at a serious level (I was only training three times a week).
Sticking at it pays off
Around 20, I started triathlon. At first I looked down on the triathletes in the pool. The cyclist with his thick thighs and stiff shoulders was no natural swimmer. Even untrained, I was much faster and smoother in the water. Back then sport wasn’t as important to me and I only trained half-heartedly. The cyclist trained systematically. He was always there. And then, a few years later, it happened: He overtook me. He probably wasn’t as technically advanced, but he simply had much more power in his arms than I did with my refined technique. I couldn’t compensate anymore.
The lesson: If you want something and really give it everything – and you genuinely know you want to spend your time and energy on it, and it’s not about some fleeting status boost – then set everything in motion and you’ll overtake the lazy talents. Persistence beats talent by miles.
Originally published auf Deutsch at reinergaertner.de (est. 1997, older than Google). AI helped translate this. I helped introduce the errors.