When Things Don’t Go According to Plan: Staying The Course

Preparation matters. But the real work begins when things don’t go according to plan.

This evening, on my first training run since the Two Oceans Half Marathon, I found myself reflecting on the experience in a very different way.

With a bit of distance, what stood out was not the time or even how the race unfolded. It was how quickly things can feel unsettled, how easily your thinking can shift and how important it is to stay with the plan when it does.

That, I realised, is not unique to running.

An unsettled start

If I am honest, the unease started before the race even began. I felt unusually nervous the night before. Not excited or focused, just slightly unsettled and I could not quite place why. Then, on the morning, the first thing I encountered was a gate we had been told would be open. It was locked. A small detail, but enough to shift something. After that, I stood in a queue for over an hour (waiting for the loo!), already aware I was unlikely to make it in time. Eventually, I had to make another plan, which cost a few minutes and left me further unsettled.

By the time the race started, I tried to reset, but something had already started to creep in.

The plan and the guide

I was not running this race alone. I had someone guiding me, setting the pace and watching the bigger picture. At one point she said something simple; “Just trust me.” I really wanted to, but I could feel myself turning inward. I was second guessing, analysing, trying to override what was happening in the moment.

Looking back, she said that if that had not happened, we would likely have achieved the goal. She knew that I could do it. She had a plan that was workable, but in the moment, I didn’t believe I could do it.

And that stayed with me.

When your head gets loud

Because the plan was sound. The preparation was there. The guidance was there, but somewhere along the way, I got into my own head.

When that happens, everything becomes harder.

You stop responding to what is happening and start reacting to what you fear.  My legs were strong, but my head was telling me all sorts of things – you’re going too fast, your HR is not settling, you’re not in your groove, you’re going to bomb out.

Rhythm is lost, trust is lost, energy is lost, not only physically, but mentally.

The quiet unravelling

I had a clear goal going in. 2 hours 30 minutes, but about half way through, I knew it was not going to happen. So we adjusted. 2 hours 35 minutes. We made more small recalibrations along the way. Eventually I just said, dump the plan, let’s just get to the end.

With each shift, I was letting go of what I thought the day would look like. There were moments of frustration, moments of confusion, moments where I tried to force things back into place.

But it never quite settled. The anticipated post-race euphoria and sense of achievement was being replaced by debilitating disappointment in self.

Preparation, guidance and still

We often believe that if we prepare well enough and surround ourselves with the right people, things should unfold according to plan, but even then, there is a variable we do not speak about enough.

Ourselves.

Our state of mind, our ability to remain present, our willingness to trust, especially when things feel uncertain. Preparation and expertise provide a foundation but they still require us to stay with them in the moment.

What really stayed with me

There is one part of the day that stands out more clearly than anything else.

My ‘coach’, Mel (also known as Ultra-Mel), never left my side. When I started to struggle, she remained steady. At times she quite literally held my hand. She took my pack when she could see it would help. She did not step back when things were not going according to plan. She stepped in.

That, to me, is gold. Far more valuable than any number on the clock.

A quieter perspective

It is also worth remembering something I almost lost sight of on the day.

In December 2024, I said, almost casually, “I would like to run a half marathon. The Two Oceans in April.” That was the starting point. Four months later, I was standing on that start line and then crossing the finish of my first half marathon ever.

Somewhere along the way, the question shifted from “can I do this” to “how well can I do this”. On this day that went wrong, it was never about if I was going to get over the finish, it was about missing a goal, one that many would have argued is a great achievement in itself when so many don’t even get to the start line!

In that shift, it is easy to lose perspective.

The longer game

It also reminded me of something I often say to clients. It is a marathon, not a sprint. Even knowing that and having it imprinted in my DNA, I found myself wanting the outcome on the day. I wanted it to click. I wanted that number.

That pull towards instant gratification is hard to ignore. In this world in which we now exist, we are surrounded by it.

But the reality is very different. Progress is built quietly, through consistency, through showing up and through doing the work, even when it feels repetitive or slow. Over time, that compounds.

A familiar pattern

What struck me afterwards is how familiar this felt.

In the family office and advisory world, the same pattern plays out more often than we acknowledge. There is a plan, there is preparation, there is structure and there is clarity Usually (or hopefully)! there is a trusted guide walking alongside you.

All of a sudden something shifts.

Circumstances change. Markets move. Missiles are fired. Sometimes things just don’t feel the way you expected them to. In that moment, it becomes very easy to move away from the plan. We second guess, react and try and take back control.

Where trust matters most

This is where trust becomes critical.

Trust in the person who can see what you cannot in the moment. Trust in the foundations that have been carefully put in place. Trust in the process, even when the outcome feels uncertain. Trust in their ability to step back and make objective decisions without emotion. Trust in their ability to create clarity, where it seems impossible to exist.

Why you ask. Simple, if those foundations are sound, a single difficult moment does not define the outcome.

You adjust, recalibrate, bounce back, hold the line and stay the course. Over time, that builds something far more valuable than a perfect outcome on any one day.

It builds resilience.

What actually matters

Whether I ran 2:30 or 2:40 that weekend will not define anything meaningful in the long-term. I was never going to break a record or win the race.

What does matter is something else entirely.

I am able to run (honestly puff, pant and run), I am building strength and I am investing in my health in a way that allows me to be present for longer. For Jessica. For future generations. For many more adventures and moments that matter.

We stayed the course.

Perspective

Getting to the start line matters. Big green tick. Getting to the finish line in one piece matters. Big green tick. Does it really matter whether this goal was met?

To everyone who showed up, adjusted, pushed through and finished, there is something meaningful in that.

Looking forward

Not every race is about the time. Some are about learning, some are about humbling, some are about perspective and some quietly prepare you for what comes next.

The goals that matter most are rarely about a single day. They are built over time, they are refined over time and sometimes reset.

2027, we are coming for you, with a little more perspective, to have not the time, but the time of our life.