The year 2013 has started with a bang at MiWay. Before we knew it, January has come and gone. For me personally, January is a big month – firstly, because it happens to be my birthday month and secondly, because 70.3 Ironman (“half ironman”) takes place in January. So, both came and went (with a fair amount of joy and success) and now life (work and play) is moving along at a rapid pace.

I tend to be a sucker for quotations, especially those made by famous people. A quotation often becomes a bit of a cliché, but then again, the reason why it became a cliché in the first place is because it is normally based on the truth.

There are two quotations that recently caught my eye, both creating quite a strong inner response for different reasons.

The first one said “Happiness is a short-cut to mediocrity”, from an anonymous source. My first response was that it surely can’t be true. Don’t we all strive for happiness in our lives, our relationships, our careers? Then I got it…..if you are too easily happy or satisfied with things, if you set low standards, if you under achieve and you are still “happy” with your performance, you are indeed taking a short-cut to mediocrity. The difference between success and failure often lies in how high you set the bar, in your definition of success. If you are not easily satisfied, you won’t be “happy” with mediocre performances, and vice versa. This means that the standards you set for yourself and your level of satisfaction or dissatisfaction with your actual performance compared to those standards, determine the level of your success. In a way then, you should be wary of settling for sub-standard performances. Simply put, don’t settle for second best.

The question that arises, is: how “unhappy” do you have to be to avoid mediocrity?

Bill Gates refers to the concept of “running scared” as a means of avoiding complacency, which in turn leads to mediocrity. Andy Grove (at the time joint-CEO of Intel) authored the book “Only the paranoid survive”, where he argues that fear of failure is not necessarily a bad thing. Paul Harris, ex-CEO of Firstrand, once shared with me the fact that “mediocrity casts a shadow”…..meaning that the mediocrity of a manager/leader will eventually lead to the team’s mediocrity. I am personally not fond of ruling by fear, but I wholeheartedly agree with Paul’s view on mediocrity! In my experience, fear has the potential of paralyzing people. However, the healthy fear of failure I for my late father certainly played a role in me making sure I made my way through university without undue delay!

In conclusion, if I’m too easily “happy” with below par performances, it will lead to complacency and eventually to mediocrity. So, looked at from that angle, it is true that “happiness is a short-cut to mediocrity”.

The second quotation that jumped up at me, is one of Jim Collins’s, namely “Whether you prevail or fail, endure or die, depends more on what you do yourself than on what the world does to you”. This is so true. We have much more control over what happens to us than we often want to accept. I suppose it is much easier to play the blame game. Blame apartheid, blame your parents, blame your teachers, blame your manager, blame your genes, blame the church, blame God……blame everyone except yourself.

For me, the learning from these two quotations are self-explanatory: accept accountability for your own life, grab your opportunities, set high standards for yourself, dream big, do everything in your power to meet those standards and to make those dreams come true, and never, ever, settle for second best!

These are the ideas and philosophies we debate and build our culture on at MiWay. Every so often, we repeat the same mistakes and then we go back to the drawing board and start afresh. But we never give up on each other. We are one big family and we care about each other’s wellbeing and success. When we succeed, we succeed together, and we keep an eye out for each other to ensure mediocrity never becomes acceptable!

In the last couple of months, we have celebrated the successful conclusion of our third year in business and we also reached the 100,000 client mark, a milestone which economists and statisticians say many new businesses never get to see. This must be particularly true for those brave entrepreneurs who embarked on their journey at the same time as MiWay. At that stage there was no hint of the financial crisis that would cripple the economies of the world, instead our economy was buoyant, South Africans were energised and the future appeared to hold nothing other than the promise of even better things to come.

But this changed overnight. One day we were basking in the sun of the prudent planning of our government and financial institutions; the next, our blue skies had been overshadowed by the storm clouds of the global financial meltdown. It was a lesson in economic interdependence or globalisation; we are all connected, able to benefit from the strongest amongst us, but equally vulnerable to the adverse effects resonating from the weakest.

The impact of the financial crisis on South Africa’s private sector and individuals has been quite simply devastating; leading, unsurprisingly to restructuring, liquidations and large scale job losses.

How is it that MiWay has been able to not only endure these harrowing conditions, but exceed the three-year targets we set for the business at the outset? These are the questions that insurance market watchers must surely be asking. After all, when we launched in February of 2008 the industry was dominated by a handful of players and the market was considered nearly impenetrable.

The answer is simple: we returned to the roots of what makes business work. And by this we don’t mean the business basics of systems, cash flow and process; we mean people.

To me it seems that as the business environment has ‘progressed’ it has forgotten that business is not done by buildings, computers or websites. Instead, business is done between people based on the health of their relationship.

We came into this business with a firm belief that people – our customers, our employees and our partners – would determine whether we made it or not. That meant clarifying what a healthy relationship with each group meant and the answer across the board was really rather simple: people want relationships based in trust, transparency and understanding.

It is these principles that permeate our business and guide the development of products and services that are then offered to the market. We have worked, and continue to work, hard to remove much of the mystery that the local insurance market founded itself on. This has resulted in products that include insuring a person based on that person’s driving style; interaction channels that are available when our customers want them; and rewards that are paid to customers who have maintained their relationship with us well, even if they have submitted a claim. In fact everything we have done has been checked against the question: will this make our relationships stronger?

The response of our customers, employees and partners to our underlying principle has been an overwhelming and unequivocal endorsement.

And so, I would like to thank you for entering a relationship with us, for coming on this journey with us. Please keep speaking to us, tell us what you like, what you don’t and what you would like to see. After all, our business is based on achieving the best possible relationship with you.

The mystique of the Comrades Marathon captures the imagination of South Africans around May/June every year.  The organisers call it ‘The Ultimate Human Race’, and many commentators and experts contend that it is the greatest ultra marathon in the world.  It certainly is the only foot race of 90km in the world that attracts around 13,000 participants every year.  In 2000 it attracted a massive 20,000 runners.  In addition to the runners, some 300,000 spectators come out to provide support along the route every year.

It is difficult to understand why.  Anyone who has tackled the epic challenge between Pietermaritzburg and Durban, or the other way around every alternative year, will testify to the gruelling nature of it.  How then can its popularity be explained? In my view, Comrades offers ordinary people like you and me the opportunity to do something truly extraordinary.  It offers a real challenge, and South Africans love a challenge.  The race belongs to the masses as much as it belongs to the 100 or so hopefuls who believe they stand a chance of winning.

In my late twenties and early thirties, I completed seven Comrades marathons – two silver, and five bronze medals.  Due to injury and other reasons I didn’t run again for nine years.  Between 2002 and 2004, I returned to complete numbers eight, nine and ten.  After receiving my permanent green number for completing ten runs I decided at the age of 45 to hang up my running shoes. That was until the 16^th of February this year!  A good friend and old running partner called me and suggested we give Comrades 2009 a go, given the fact that we both turn 50 this year. It took very little to persuade me. I started training the next day. The harsh reality was that we had a mere fourteen weeks to race day, and only eight weeks before we had to run a standard marathon in under five hours to qualify.  The biggest risk was over training causing injury or illness due to over eagerness to get fit quickly.  This had to be managed well.

My training went reasonably well, and I managed to qualify in time.  My friend was less fortunate; he pulled a hamstring and had to withdraw.  I followed three simple yet strict principles, namely:

1.      Never train on sore legs, to minimise the risk of injury.

This meant that some weeks I only trained once or twice.  Staying healthy was key as it provided the only chance of success.

2.      Scheduled regular (weekly) visits to the physiotherapist for a sports massage.

This helped with my body’s recovery time and provided much needed prevention against injury.

3.      Employ a walk-run strategy.

I read about it in a Tim Noakes article. The logic here is that I scheduled one minute walking sections every kilometre from early on in long training runs or races, to spread my energy levels more evenly over the required distance. This ensured that I avoided levels of total exhaustion from where it is almost impossible to recover.

The weekend before race day I seriously questioned my reasons for wanting to run Comrades again.  I’ve had a more than satisfactory running career and didn’t need to prove anything to myself or anyone else.    I also started doubting my ability, especially since I’ve battled to run long distances ever since I had a knee scope some four years ago.  Was I not too old?  Have I done enough training?  Those who claim to know reckon a minimum of 400km from January to race day is required.  I did a mere 384km.  Have I done enough long runs?  I only did one 42,2km race, three 21,1km races, and two 20km training runs.  The rest of my training consisted of 10km, 8km, 6km runs….

I can’t say I found satisfactory answers to my questions, but on the spur of the moment I decided to ask my friends, family, loved ones and business connections to pledge funds to the Starfish Foundation (who do amazing work with AIDS orphans), on condition that I finish and earn a medal.  This turned the week before race day into an exciting, interactive period where I received many messages of support, and more pledges than I expected.  My dream was to raise R100,000.  The fund is currently sitting on R120,000 and money is still pouring in!  In these tough economic times?  Wow, I am humbled by people’s generosity of spirit.

The day before the race consisted mainly of registration at the huge expo in Durban.  Being a green number runner, I was asked to register at the Green Number counter.  The gentleman who assisted me noticed that I was doing my first run in my green number, and greeted me with a warm smile, a firm handshake and a “Welcome to the Club, René!” This moment was a lot sweeter than I ever expected.  I can’t explain why.  Maybe the fact that this is one club where money can’t get you in had something to do with it….. Another exhilarating experience was my visit to the Starfish stand at the expo.  The ladies behind the counter were ecstatic to hear how successful my fund raising exercise was progressing. They gave me an orange wristband and insisted that I wore it during the race.

The 30 minutes before the start of the race was an awesome, humbling experience.  The organisers played the Ladysmith Black Mambaso rendition of Shosholoza over the sound system.  All 13,000 runners joined in.  This was followed by the national anthem.  By this time my whole body was covered in goose bumps and I battled to hold back the tears.  Finally, five minutes before the gun, the well known sounds of Vangelis’ Chariots of Fire filled the chilly early morning with warm emotions.  Then I knew: this is special.  I am one of 13,000 South Africans of all races and creeds, all walks of life – some rich, some poor – with a common goal, to get to Durban in less than 12 hours.  We are all equal.  Social status means nothing.  We are in this together, and we respect each other as athletes, co-runners, human beings.  The black lady in front of me turned around with a big smile and said: “You know all the words and the tunes.  You sing well”.  I acknowledged her compliment and silently hoped that my running would also be on par!

I battled from the start.  It is dark and cold at 5h30 at the end of May in Maritzburg.  For some strange reason all my muscles felt tight.  I couldn’t find a comfortable rhythm, my breathing was erratic, I bumped into people in front of me, I urgently needed a toilet….I wasn’t happy.  I wanted to be somewhere else.

Matters improved somewhat after an hour on the road.  The sun was rising and I struck up conversations with the runners in my immediate vicinity.  The field was more spread out now, which allowed me to get into a comfortable rhythm.  My goal was to run the first half of the race at around 7min per km, which would get me to Drummond (halfway) in 5h15.  Anything under 5h30 would have been fine.  That would leave me with 6h30 for the second half.  The problem with the ‘down run’ is the fact that the first 21km happen to be more uphill than downhill, and I could see it in my running time.  I went through 10km in 75min and 20km in 2h30.  This means I was averaging 7,5min per km – slower than planned.  Even more worrying was the fact that my left hip flexor felt very tight.  In fact, it felt as though the muscle was going into spasm.

This was very disconcerting.  I was mentally prepared for setbacks, but not so early into the race.  This was a nasty curve ball and I was close to panicking.  I stopped briefly at a water station and managed to get hold of a block of ice the size of a cricket ball.  This I applied to the tight muscle.  It seemed to work.

Passing the Ethembeni School for disabled kids, around 35km into the race at the foot of Inchanga, provided fresh food for thought.  Most of these kids are unable to run.  The privilege of being healthy and able to be part of this great race was once again imprinted on my mind.  For a couple of hundred meters, the pain eased off a bit…

I went through Drummond slightly behind schedule in 5h32 and was already severely fatigued.  I battled to convince myself that I had enough gas in the tank to do another 45km in under 6h30.  To make matters worse, the first 8km after Drummond consists of a long, nasty climb commonly referred to as the back of Botha’s Hill.  I walked most of the time.  My only hope was that I would be able to capitalise on the long mainly downhill stretch of 20km between Hillcrest and Pinetown.  But I had to get there first.  I had to get over the back of Botha’s Hill first.

I managed to pick up the pace ever so slightly once I reached Hillcrest.  My enemies now were the pain in my knees and quads caused by the downhill pounding and the hip flexor spasms that persisted.  I had to dig deep, focus on rhythm and breathing, ensure my fluid intake at the water points were sufficient, and visualise myself getting to Durban in one piece.  I considered bailing a number of times.  The orange Starfish wristband around my left wrist reminded me of the noble cause of raising funds for the poor, less fortunate kids.  Kids who suffer due to no fault of their own.  I persevered, but the nagging thought of giving up persisted.

The uniformed boys of Kearsney College between Botha’s Hill and Hillcrest provided another example of the massive disparity between the ‘haves’ and the ‘have nots’ in this country.  I realised, of course, that the friendly, energetic boys are not to blame for their privileged status.  In fact, we need more fine institutions like that where great leaders and sportsmen and -women are groomed.  But at the same time, we need less run down, poverty stricken institutions where future leaders and fine sportsmen and -women are a rarity.

Although I moved more freely now, I couldn’t help thinking that this is just not fair.  “Bad patches don’t last” is what most experienced runners believe.  The problem was that my whole race thus far had been one long bad patch!  The toughest section between Hillcrest and Pinetown is the 4km long steep downhill known as Field’s Hill.  I know it sounds contradictory, but this downhill stretch is particularly painful.  My legs were jelly by now, and my 104kg frame didn’t make matters easier on my knees and hip joints.  My only consolation was the fact that all the runners around me were taking strain as well.  An Indian gentleman on my left started talking to no-one in particular.  He said: “This is what people don’t understand, you know, when I tell them the downhills are painful, they just look at me and shake their heads”.

I reached Pinetown feeling groggy and very sorry for myself.  The race was turning into a war zone.  Disillusioned runners who simply had enough were standing, sitting and even lying all over the place.  I still had 21km ahead of me and I realised I had to make a decision to continue or not.  Simply feeling sorry for myself was not helping at all.  By now the KZN humidity and heat was becoming another complicating factor and to really make matters worse, my nose started bleeding.  From experience I knew the bleeding will only stop if I applied ice to my head and neck to cool it down.  That would not be possible whilst running.  I did grab some ice at the water points and tried to do the best I could.  A plug made from toilet paper had to at least prevent the blood from running freely…..not a pretty sight, I believe!  Nevertheless, I took a firm decision there and then that I won’t give up.  If I failed to finish, it would not be because of a conscious decision on my part.  In fact, the only way I would exit from the race would be on a stretcher!  I decided to run tall, to lift my chin, pull back my shoulders and remind myself I had a right to be here.  I was an athlete; no, a champion.

With 18km to go, I reached the dreaded Cowie’s Hill, the last big hill on the down run.  I decided to walk the full 1,2km.  I sent an SMS from my cell phone to my fiancée, my kids, family and some friends, saying: “On Cowie’s. 18km to go. 2h50 to 12h cut-off. Going to be close.”  I basically had 9,5min per km to finish under 12 hours, which was more than my average running time of 7min53.  That sounds good on paper, but on tar in the Durban heat after slogging it out for 71km, I was still very unsure.  Once I got over Cowie’s, I managed to put in a couple of 7min kms, which helped the cause along nicely.

I reached 45^th Cutting (12km to go) after 10 hours of running.  My fiancée was standing next to the road cheering me on.  I walked a couple of metres with her and with all the courage I could muster I told her I will finish in time.  The tough part of this story is the fact that although I only had 12km to go, I still faced in the order of two hours of running.  It was 15h30.  It was muggy, I was hot and tired and my nose was still bleeding.  I ran past a medical station.  One of the paramedics noticed my bleeding nose and offered to assist me.  I was concerned that they might decide I’m unfit to continue, so I just kept quiet, put my head down and continued running.  I was now in extreme ‘vasbyt’ territory.  All the runners on the road were quiet.  Everyone was focused on simply putting one foot in front of the other, moving forward at all costs.  I reached the 5km-to-go board on the stroke of 11h00.  Only severe cramping or some other unforeseen disaster could still prevent me from finishing in time. The last couple of kilometres were reasonably uneventful.  My nose miraculously stopped bleeding and when I saw the one km-to-go board with 27min to cut off, I knew Comrades 2009 was in the bag!

I can’t explain the relief and elation when I entered the stadium with a big smile, punching the air in sheer delight.  It felt as though the 50,000 frenzied supporters were all shouting for me! I finished in 11h41.  It was a hard day at the office, to say the least.  The Ultimate Human Race? Pretty inhuman, if you ask me!

My Comrades experience in a way resembles a micro version of life itself, with many lessons.  Here are a few:

1.      Everything starts with a dream. Dream big.  You only have one life, so make it count.  We often under achieve, because we think small.

2.      Stick to your game plan. Both my training and the race itself had clear guiding principles and realistic goals that I stuck to religiously.  The amazing outcome is that the end result was very much in line with my game plan.  In life and business, it also helps to have a clear vision (dream) and strategy (plan), and to stick to that plan!

3.      Adapt to unforeseen obstacles. Although we plan for setbacks, we are often confronted by curve balls we could not foresee.  I didn’t expect hip flexor spasms or nose bleeding problems.  I had to deal with it.  The temptation to panic was strong, but I had to stay calm and find innovative solutions to overcome the setbacks.  In the case of my bleeding nose, it seemed more serious than it really was.  I basically put a tissue plug in my nose and carried on.  Sometimes we face obstacles in life that look worse than what they really are.  We should just ignore them and continue regardless.

4.      Never ever give up. My race turned out much harder than I expected.  I could easily have given up.  Life, and business, often threatens to pull us down.  Things often don’t turn out the way we planned or hoped.  Sometimes we feel like giving up.  Don’t.  Hang in there.  Bad patches don’t last.

5.      Make the most of every opportunity. Instead of this just being a race for personal reasons, it turned into an awesome opportunity to raise funds for a very worthy case.  I never expected the generosity of all the kind donors.  It was highly rewarding to turn ‘just another race’ into a serious fund raising opportunity.  How often do we miss the opportunities that life or business present us with?

6.      Celebrate your victories, big or small. Once the job is done satisfactorily, it is time to pop the champagne.  It is important to enjoy the satisfaction of success.  It takes a lot of hard and smart work to complete any worthwhile task successfully.  Enjoy it.  You deserve it.

7.      Be grateful. I encountered blind runners along the way.  We ran past disabled kids. We have so many blessings to be grateful for, for one our health.  How often do we take it for granted?  The unselfish support from my fiancée during and after the race that allowed me to focus on the job at hand: would the entire ‘expedition’ have been possible without it?  Life has taught me the value of gratitude.

8.      Show kindness. It costs so little, yet it means so much.  The kind words of the lady in front of me before the start of the race left me with a warm feeling about our wonderful rainbow nation.  The world is full of harshness and over competitiveness.  We can make it a better place by showing kindness, because kindness begets kindness.

9.      Be generous. This is a lesson I learnt fairly late in life: to give is a blessing.  The generosity of all the donors made me realise more people than I expected have discovered this.  Don’t cling to your earthly possessions.  The joy derived from giving is highly rewarding, and in a strange way people who give easily always seem to have more to give!

10. Never stop learning. Despite my ten previous races, I still learnt so many things on the day – about people, their fears, their joys, their challenges.  I learnt a lot about the Starfish Foundation and the work they do.  Finally, I learnt that the true heroes of the Comrades are the sloggers who sneak in just before the 12 hour cut-off time!

I would like to hear from you if this story touched you or if you have comments or questions.

Kind regards,