Helping Others Helps Yourself

by Rich Greene

A person who follows the IronCode has a high level of awareness of their surrounding environment and is helpful, kind, and encouraging to others in need.

Growing up, I was taught that you should try to help others whenever you can. For many people, this is a precept of their religious education and I believe that in my adult life I had been a good steward of that practice. But my focus was on the less financially fortunate or those who needed a hand-up to restart their lives due to some misfortune. It wasn’t until I started doing Ironman triathlons that I expanded my thinking about helping others and the lessons I learned dramatically changed my life and I think the lives of others that I come in contact with.

I wish I could say that all of my Ironman races went smoothly. Smoothly to me means that I executed my race with no surprises, no pain, I was smiling the entire race, and I had a perfect finish. But I’ve learned that hardly happens, even with the professionals. I can think of maybe two races where I felt like everything went according to the plan I had developed. That, of course, doesn’t mean I didn’t learn something about myself during those “good” races. But I tend to learn and grow more when the times are really tough. I think that is just a natural law of life.

My very first Ironman race was probably when I began to understand that every human on this planet needs help. Having lived a typical sheltered western lifestyle, I have not experienced first-hand the ravages of war, famine, or the daily struggle for sustenance. So, at the visceral level, I don’t know how humans help each other when faced with extreme challenges. For the reader who might think I’m making a comparison between my challenges and people in those situations … I’m not. I just don’t have another comparison of human suffering to give for the story I’m about to share about helping other people in difficult situations.

That first race I competed in was in Coeur d’Alene, Idaho, USA. I selected this particular course for the beauty and for the expectation that the weather would be pleasant for my first Ironman race. The day was clear, but we were experiencing a 50-year temperature high of 108F (42C). For a race that is 140.2 miles long, this would present an added extreme challenge for all of the athletes. Because of the heat, 20% of the registered athletes did not start and 23% who started did not finish. Over 500 people were taken to local hospitals because of heat-related issues.

I had trained for nearly a year for this race, I had family and friends who had traveled to see me race, and there were many others following my progress using the Ironman online tracking system. I wanted to finish this race for my own sense of accomplishment, but I also felt a sense of obligation because so many others wanted me to succeed.

Despite the extreme heat, somehow, I managed to complete the 2.4-mile lake swim and about 81 miles of the bike ride before I started to see what the heat was doing to the other athletes. It was devastating! People were sitting by the roadside, their bikes lying next to them. Some athletes had their eyes closed and some were on their hands and knees violently retching up the contents of their stomachs. It was hot! I already knew the air temperature was 108°F (42°C), but I was told later on that they measured the temperature of the roadway and it registered 165°F (74°C)!

I saw a pickup truck passing me that was loaded with bikes with Ironman race numbers stuck to the bike frame. I figured that these were the bikes of athletes that for one reason or another couldn’t finish the race. I quickly tried to count all the bikes, but the truck was too fast and there was another one right behind it … and one after that. There were a lot of bikes! Which meant a lot of people quit the race.

I was really struggling physically, and these images didn’t contribute in a positive way to my race success. I started to question whether a guy like me should really be trying to do this race. After all, I was 51 years old, and I was not in the best physical shape. Because a visit to the doctor found my blood pressure to be 209/107, I had started an exercise routine that led to my entering this race. But that is another story.

I started conjuring up all the reasons why this was a HUGE mistake! Fortunately, I knew enough about self-talk that I realized continuing to go down this path of negative speak would guarantee that I would not succeed. I had to keep going! So, I kept telling myself, “Keep peddling… You’ll make it to 112 miles if you just keep peddling.”

At about mile 78 I saw a bike lying by the side of the road but no rider near it. I looked up the embankment from the road and saw a figure clothed in white racing gear, lying in a wooded area. A little voice in my head told me that I needed to stop and find out if the person was okay.

I got off my bike and called out to the prone figure. I kept calling and I got no response. I knew I needed to investigate so I laid my bike down and started to walk towards the person. I climbed up the hill and saw that it was a guy who looked to be in his 30s and he was unconscious. I looked back down the steep embankment to the road that I had just been climbing and called out to another cyclist. “Help! Help!” The other racer stopped, and I explained that someone needed help and asked her to flag down a car and have them call 911.

I realized that I needed to stay with this guy until medical aid arrived. Honestly, I was almost relieved because I figured this was my valid excuse for not finishing the race. The longer I was off the bike the more I realized how “beat up” I felt. When I stopped moving, I found myself concentrating on all of the body aches and overall exhaustion. I had started to look for reasons to quit.

This was not a good place to be in for my mental state. Fortunately for the injured athlete, and myself, paramedics arrived within five minutes. Now I had a decision to make. I had to either succumb to my exhaustion and give it up or push onward. I chose the latter.

I had many other challenges during the rest of the bike ride. I had to take a 20-minute break because of an electrolyte imbalance that left me lying on the hot pavement of the road; my body twisted in pain until I got water from an Idaho Highway police officer and electrolytes from another passing cyclist. It was not until well after the race that I learned that electrolytes affect the electrical impulses that control your heart’s operation. This is not a good thing if they are out of balance or deficient. I count myself as incredibly lucky nothing serious occurred because I already had a case of high blood pressure.

Somehow, I managed to get my bike to 112 miles literally within minutes of the time limit for the bike segment of the race. As I came into the transition, the paramedics shined a light in my eyes and asked me several questions that I don’t now remember. Apparently, I passed their test because I was allowed to move on to the last segment of the race. What lay before me was a 26.2-mile run with no relief in the temperature.

At the time of the race, I was not a very experienced runner. I had reluctantly started running because it was part of the triathlon. At the time, I looked upon this part of the race as just “plain survival.” I didn’t know until this race that it was an apt description.

It was during this first Ironman race that I perfected the 26.2-mile Shuffle/Limp running technique. Don’t laugh; I’ve successfully used this technique in subsequent races and am happy to teach it to anyone who sees the marathon as much as a struggle as I sometimes do. As you can probably imagine, the 26.2-mile Shuffle/Limp does not look very pretty, nor does it look very professional! Despite the fact that I had this odd running style, I think it was during this part of the race that I learned my biggest lessons about helping others.

Basically, you have 10 hours and 30 minutes after you start the race to finish the first two segments. I came within minutes of that as my bike crossed the transition line. So, as you might imagine, after all of that time, I was really feeling the effects of the miles and the heat. But I know that, like almost everything else in life, the best way to get started and to finish is to put one foot in front of the other and keep doing that until you finally get to where you want to go. Sometimes that is easier said than done and today was one of those days.

I saw a lot more human suffering on the run course than on the bike course. People continued to pass out, throw up, and just throw in the towel. Personally, I just didn’t see how I could quit after the long day I’d had already. I literally jogged and walked, jogged, and walked, jogged, and walked. I probably did more walking than jogging that entire 26.2 miles. Here’s what I found to be interesting; at a walking pace, you get to pay a lot more attention to those around you. I found myself encouraging others and realized at the same time, in some small amount, by doing this I was also encouraging myself.

I began to care about what happened to others around me. I felt a sense of connection through our common suffering. There were people I saw who had stopped or were sitting and I was afraid they were going to quit (yea… I was afraid my competitors were going to quit). I encouraged them to run/jog/walk with me. I wasn’t afraid that they would finish ahead of me. That competitive element had ceased to exist for me as the race had taken on an entirely different meaning. I possessed this enhanced sense of responsibility that, no matter what, I had to encourage them to finish what they had started.

At one point I found I’d gathered seven other runners around me and we each, in turn, were encouraging the other to keep going. It was empowering and it also provided the right amount of distraction for me not to think about my own physical misery. I don’t remember any of their names except for Andrés De La Cruz. Andrés and I ran the race together for the final 17 miles. He and I both struggled, encouraged each other, and had our own mini competition around how many people each of us would encourage to keep racing. He’d see a person and offer encouragement and then I’d do the same.

It is strange the little things that will keep you going. When Andrés and I crossed the halfway mark, at 13 miles, a woman who was spectating looked me in the eye as I passed and said, “You’re going to get a medal today.” I thought that it was a strange statement, but a little bit of my ego grabbed on to that idea and I held that as one more thing to keep me going. And keep going I did until the end.

Andrés and I decided that we’d have this “crossing the finish line experience” as a solo one. So, about a mile before the finish we split off from each other, agreeing to a high-five on the other side of the finish line. I can’t describe the feeling I had as I crossed that finish line. I saw Andrés and many other people that we had encouraged to keep going. There was this collective congratulatory joy amongst everyone, and it felt incredible to know that I helped to play a part in their success and them in mine.

Not all that I learned about helping others during triathlons came out of struggle and victory. I also learned great things from struggle and defeat. During a subsequent training race, which was a half-Ironman, I experienced something called a DNF. If you are not a competitive athlete, you may not be familiar with that acronym. During this particularly tough race called The Super Frog in San Diego, California, I got one. If you don’t know what it is, let me give you a little hint. It’s not a medal!

Let me first start by giving you the definition of DNF. It means “Did Not Finish.” For many people that would be the end of their world. I’ve seen some really sad displays of emotion when this happens. Many people train for months or even years to be able to compete in an event of this type. When things don’t go the way they planned, it can be very emotional.

Some might even characterize the reaction to a DNF as emotionally devastating. I once saw a male athlete literally break down when he didn’t finish the swim race segment within the allotted time period. He was so uncontrollably distraught that several paramedics had to strap him down to a gurney before taking him away in the ambulance!

That is a pretty extreme reaction and I’m of a very different mindset about how to handle that type of non-success. Sure, I was disappointed when it happened to me, and I would have preferred to finish the race. But even though I was emotionally disappointed, I didn’t even come close to freaking out like that guy.

I had prepared for the Super Frog with lots of training, but I did a horrible job of getting enough physical and mental rest prior to the race. I traveled on business up until the evening before the race, flew all the way across the country, did my swim, strapped on my bike shoes, and took on the ride. About halfway through the bike ride, I was struggling. I was physically tired, but I probably could have weathered the physical exhaustion if I had been mentally prepared. I wasn’t and I quit with only a few miles left on the bike course.

In retrospect, I’m actually glad it happened because I learned so many lessons about myself that were more valuable than the finish ever could have been to me. Since I’m writing about helping others, I’ll just stick to sharing that lesson. Freed up from having to finish the race, I got to encourage other athletes who experienced the same disappointment as me, and I got to watch my two of my friends, Aaron Hutchison and Ron Kelly, cross the finish line.

What I gained from the DNF was of far greater value to me personally than if I had another medal to display in my office. Allow me to give you a little background. I was in my heavy business busy season and there is a lot of air travel involved. I had just spent a week away seeing customers and before returning home I got on a plane and flew 2000 miles to do this Super Frog race. I arrived in San Diego, which, by the way, is a really beautiful city if you’ve never been before and checked in for the race.

Following race check-in, I proceeded to drive almost five hours round trip to meet with another business associate. When I returned to my hotel, I was able to squeeze in four hours of sleep before race day. It would be foolish of me if I did not admit that I was physically and mentally exhausted. And, in my perfect 20/20 hindsight, I probably never should have signed up for the race in the first place as already knew that I had a lot on my plate.

That was the first lesson I learned. I bit off more than I could chew. From a training perspective, my coach (Kari Duane) did a stellar job getting me ready. Her plan was sound and all the training leading up to the race was perfectly tailored for me to have a successful and enjoyable race day. And then I screwed it all up!

Here’s what happened. I had a great swim in very rough water and a fast bike start for the first 34 miles. But I quickly hit the wall and I realized that even though I could probably finish the race, I might pay a heavy price. So, I analyzed the current situation, and I decided to quit … or DNF.

In my decision-making process, I had to consider the fact that I was going to fly home to sleep in my bed for a few hours and then leave the next morning for two weeks on another business trip. I made a call, and that was to “pack it in.” This decision was based on what I know about my body. Though I do not get sick often, when I do, I usually experience some serious respiratory issue. I felt I was possibly at risk, and I couldn’t afford to compromise my upcoming business meetings as well as my first college parents’ weekend for my freshman daughter.

At least these were the “rational excuses” that I used to quit. When I think about them now, it was all about “what might happen” and I know it is a mistake that can hold you back in life if you are constantly using “what bad thing might happen” as an excuse for not doing something.

Looking back on it now, I think the probabilities were low that I would have crashed and burned if I finished the race. The entire experience makes me think of a famous line from one of the 1980s Dirty Harry movies.

“A man has to know his limitations.”

Wow! I found mine. My real limitation was my ability to believe in my own success and that even though the price was pain and discomfort, it was temporary.

If you have ever made this mistake of thinking that you could accomplish more than was reasonable, you’ll understand what happened to me. First, let me state that there is nothing shameful about knowing your limitations. We all have them. And the person who recognizes them and can use that knowledge to create success in their lives, instead of self-doubt, will enjoy greater happiness and more positive outcomes.

I don’t just think this. I know this firsthand, and anyone can apply this simple process of experiencing, learning, adjusting, and growing to their lives. If you understand positive framing of life’s experiences, your non-successes can be used as building blocks for greater accomplishments in life. In fact, I’d argue that it is these experiences, though sometimes unpleasant, that are of the greatest value.

After I turned in my race timing chip to the Ironman officials, I walked the run course to find my friends who were participating and also watch the other competitors. As I was walking down the sidewalk, I saw a woman sitting on the curb quietly sobbing.

I noticed that she was wearing a blue Ironman wristband. You know, like the kind you get when you go to an amusement park that identifies you as someone old enough to get on the scary rides. I guessed that something had happened since it was too early for her to have completed the race. I stopped where I was and decided that she looked like someone who needed a friendly face. As I walked up to her, I saw her glance at my blue Ironman wristband then look up at me with the understanding that I had DNF’d.

I didn’t say anything as I sat down beside her, and we sat quietly next to each other for a while. All of a sudden, she really broke down and the waterworks flowed. Her shoulders were heaving but she was quiet as tears rolled down her cheeks. I guess she was just waiting for someone to share how she felt and decided I was “okay”. Not really knowing what to say, I waited for a minute and then said, “It sucks, doesn’t it?” That broke her crying spell; she laughed a little, and we began to talk about what happened to each of us.

I found out that this wasn’t her first race either. She told me it was her tenth half-Ironman and nothing like this had ever happened to her before. I think because I had also just experienced the disappointment of a DNF I could be truly empathetic to her situation. It had never happened to me before either.

We talked about the excitement of competing in the Ironman. I shared with her my research into the IronCode Principles and how they had changed my life. We talked about her next race and by then I knew she was ready to move on and look forward. She vowed to return next year and conquer the thing that held her back.

I don’t know that woman’s name, but I’ll never forget the encounter. Honestly, I feel blessed to have been able to have my experience help to comfort another person and act as a catalyst for us to talk about how to reframe success, learn, and spend the rest of the day with an optimistic viewpoint. I’ll never forget how rewarded I felt by being able to commiserate with another human who was experiencing the same disappointment and to know that we both were going to be okay. It was truly one of the rewards that I can take with me wherever I go in life.

I think DNF really stands for Did Not Fail because you never fail if you don’t give up. Sure, I gave up my chance to finish this particular race and get a cool medal for something I feel was way more rewarding. I didn’t know that it was going to turn out that way, but I was open because I had reframed the situation.

Because I was present and recognized another human being in need, I learned another lesson from “Ironman experience” about being helpful. This is one that I carry forward in my everyday life. Now I simply look at others around me to see if anyone needs something … anything … to help them get through the day. Most of the time it is a simple smile that I’m able to offer up to someone who doesn’t have that happy look on their face. It’s amazing to see the power that a smile can have on another person.

In my life outside of Ironman competitions, I am blessed to be able to help people achieve greater goals and realize their potential as a sales and business coach. I’m a bit of a researcher too and this whole success principle, that’s what I call it, of being helpful to others, has fascinated me. Over the years, my research and personal experiences have shown that helping others has long been known by super productive individuals to be part of the success formula.

This practice of helping is one that every person who wants to perform at their highest levels will incorporate into their life. But here’s the catch; you can’t be a giver or a helper with the goal of expecting something in return. Oh, it will come to you in time; but you never know how, when, or where. The point of being a giver is to do so selflessly. This is why often you see contributions listed publicly as “anonymous”.

One of my sales mentors, Zig Ziglar, said, “You can get most anything you want in life if you help enough other people get what they want.” Oftentimes our greatest successes in life are found in helping others succeed. When you focus on this aspect instead of yourself, you’ll find that your impact can have a much greater shelf life. Our most lasting and fulfilling achievements are often earned by helping others fulfill theirs.

This concept of helping others or being a giver is a foreign concept to a culture that often sees the world as one giant competition. To those people, you are either a winner or a loser, and if somebody else wins, that’s one less opportunity for them. The reality is there are plenty of opportunities to go around. The “pie” is really big and everyone who wants to work for it can get a slice. I learned this from my Ironman races. There were winners who placed 1st, 2nd, or 3rd overall or in their age group. There were winners who completed the race. They are called “Finishers.” And the great thing is anyone can finish. No one is going to knock you out of the race except for yourself.

Now back to my pie analogy. I see the pie like it’s an endless bakery. If you give a slice away, someone else will put another piece in its place to share with the world. It might not be the same person who took it, but someone else will do it.

This isn’t some “do-gooder” philosophy. It happens all the time, day in and day out, and I believe, if you think about it closely, you have probably seen incidences of this in your life. People who are “helpers” believe that we have been designed to live for something greater than ourselves. Our contribution to this world has to be measured by something more meaningful than material or egotistical accomplishments. Those who help others find that their lives take on a profound sense of lasting significance leading to a great sense of personal satisfaction and well-being.

If you don’t think the “feel good” aspect of helping others is enough of a motivation to give it a try, there is something else you should consider. Remember, I said I was a researcher, right? I’m always very interested in cause and effect and how opposing forces create balance. Helping others has some really incredible physical benefits as well.

I reviewed over 40 international studies on the effects of helping others on your personal health. Many of these were long-term studies, meaning that they took decades of data to see the effects. What I got out of most of the studies is that volunteering, or helping others, can add years to your life.

Peer-reviewed (that means other professionals, usually with Dr. in front of their name, reviewed the article prior to publication and gave it their blessing) published studies show that people who gave time to charities on a regular basis were 28 percent less likely to die from any cause than their less-philanthropic counterparts. Other studies found that people saw a drop in their cholesterol levels after volunteering once a week for two months. Many other studies showed lower blood pressure and fewer incidences of depression among those who were helpers compared to the population of non-helpers.

You already know that people who are helpers report higher levels of happiness than people who are not self-defined helpers. But do you know the reason? There’s a real physical reason why this is so. This “feel good” reward for helping is the result of your brain pumping out the mood-elevating chemicals such as serotonin (a mood-mediating chemical), dopamine (a feel-good chemical) and oxytocin (a compassion and bonding chemical), creating what researchers call a helper’s high.

So … enough of the science. The IronCode Principle of “Helping Others” is a powerful success principle that will enable you to live a happier, healthier, and more rewarding life if you practice it. It doesn’t matter what reason you decide to practice it in your life. It can be a religious reason, a philosophy that you have developed, or an intellectual decision because you understand how it fits in the success formula. The Ironman triathlon helped me to refine my understanding of this principle and my awareness of its power in my life and the positive effects it can have on others. I consciously continue to develop and practice it.

Give it a try!