To The Boy Who Finished Last
Dear boy who finished last,
You don’t know me and I don’t know your name. But I saw you today.
You were running — no, battling — through the regional cross-country race where I came to watch my daughter proudly representing her school. There were kids there built for this stuff: lean limbs, long strides, effortless breathing. You weren’t one of them.
You were built for another kind of greatness. Broad shoulders. Powerful legs. A body made, perhaps, for rugby scrums or front-row tackles. But there you were — dragging yourself up that final hill, face flushed, chest heaving, refusing to stop.
And I saw you.
I saw the quiet fight. The way you kept moving when your body begged you not to. You knew, I imagine, that you weren’t going to win. Maybe you never expected to. But you didn’t let that stop you. You weren’t there to impress. You were there to finish. And that… that moved me.
You were up against more than just a hilly course — you were up against a race that wasn’t designed for you to win. And still, you ran it. Still, you finished it. And that makes you, in my eyes, a champion.
So, thank you. Thank you for reminding me what resilience looks like when no one is watching. For showing me that courage doesn’t always look like a trophy lift — sometimes it looks like dragging heavy legs up a muddy slope with your classmates long gone ahead.
You may have finished last on the results sheet. But you finished. And for that, you walked off a winner.
Sawubona | I see you
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I wrote this after coming back from my daughter’s cross-country race this morning. I wanted to tell that boy what he may never hear out loud — that he was a champion in my (now teary) eyes. I wish I could share this with every kid like him. Every adult like him, too.
To be clear, I’m not applauding mediocrity. And I’m definitely not saying everyone deserves a winner’s medal just for showing up. Excellence should still be celebrated. Talent, honed through discipline, still matters.
But what also matters is context. Effort. Determination. What it takes to even show up, let alone finish, especially when the odds are stacked against you. In fact, I couldn’t help but think: how many of us are like that boy? Trying to run a race we were never built for and never chose. Competing on playing fields that aren’t level. Carrying invisible loads while trying to keep up. Trying to match others in systems that were never made with us in mind — in workplaces, schools, even social settings. We may not place. We may not podium. But we press on anyway, not because we’re chasing the prize, but because we refuse to quit. Because finishing itself is a win.
And the truth is, sometimes the ones who appear to be coming in last are putting in twice — maybe three times — the effort of those ahead. But our systems don’t often see that. We measure output, not uphill battles. We reward the first three across the line, rarely asking how far each had to come just to get to the starting point.
So if you’ve ever felt like that boy — trailing behind, doing your best just to stay in the game — I see you.
And I want to invite you to pause. Reflect. Where did your race begin? What kind of course are you navigating? What strengths do you bring to the journey — even if they don’t look like the “ideal” for the terrain you’re on?
This is the first step in my Becoming Unapologetically You formula — a five-step process that begins with Hover: understanding your unique starting point, context and truth. Then comes Hold (acknowledging your strengths), Harness (focusing your energy), Hasten (taking aligned action) and finally Harvest (celebrating the growth, no matter what the scoreboard says).
So here’s your call to action:
⏸️ Pause and ask yourself:
What kind of race am I in right now?
Was this course built for someone like me?
What would winning look like on my terms?
Do I even want to be in this race? If not, which race am I best suited to?
Because not all finish lines look the same. And not all winners come first.
And maybe, just maybe, finishing your race — in your way, on your terms — is the biggest win of all.
And, if you're interested in learning about the one race which does take context into account, where winners are defined on 100% equitable terms and where the playing fields are absolutely level, then let's talk.
