It's a marathon, not a sprint

The phrase is a familiar one. Most people working in a reasonably sized organisation will have encountered it, usually in the context of a change programme or a long initiative. What it means in practice varies considerably depending on who is using it and what they expect people to do with it.

As a teenager I got the running bug. I represented Wales on three occasions - twice in cross country and once on the track - and those are achievements I remain proud of. Running felt natural; I trained for it, but at an innate level it was also something I loved. If I am honest, some of that enjoyment came from being able to go for a run rather than getting covered in mud playing rugby during PE.

My PE teacher, Wyn Thomas, saw potential in me early. Despite the school's natural pull toward rugby he actively encouraged it. I trained at school, with local runners and through a running club. What became clear through that process is that training meant I could achieve things others around me could not - and that being part of something larger, whether the school team, the club or the national squad, changed what felt possible.

Looking back now, I also think about Eliud Kipchoge, who recently broke the two-hour mark for the marathon. That achievement was the result of years of focused preparation. But his marathon pace sits at or beyond the level of a sprint for most people - even those who have trained seriously for the distance. In that same race there were participants who walked, jogged and ran across the full range of ability. Talent and natural aptitude play a significant role, but they do not diminish the effort made further back in the field - they simply mean the experience of the marathon is not uniform.

If it is a marathon rather than a sprint, you have to ask: what kind of marathon? Do you want people fitting their training around packed schedules, or simply walking the distance after a brief burst at the start? There is one constant across all of it: you cannot get somebody else to run your race for you.

This is where the real danger in the phrase lives. It will mean different things to different people, and whilst the metaphor serves its purpose in signalling that a journey lies ahead, it is vague enough to be read very differently by those on the receiving end. Be specific about the pace you want, what participation looks like, and what the expectations actually are. Move too fast and people will be left behind; move too slowly and momentum dissolves. Neither is useful. The pace that works for your team takes time to find, but naming it explicitly - rather than leaving it embedded in a familiar phrase - is where the real work begins.