What the Ultra-Runner Teaches the Sourcer

For once, no methodology, no tool, no hack — just an article that ripened in and through the desert, about my life as a sourcer and a runner.

Two months ago, I ran and finished the 35th Marathon des Sables — a multi-stage race covering 250 km self-supported through the Moroccan desert. Over six days, in temperatures above 45°C, I moved forward one step at a time. A physical and mental test of rare intensity.

The why and the how of my participation are still being written. But I wanted to begin this series of more personal articles with what that race taught me — and ultimately, what the ultra-runner can teach the ultra-sourcer.

Running has been part of my life for 18 years. From my first kilometre to today, thousands of hours of thinking, imagining, reflecting — and running, of course. Running is my pressure valve, my escape, my breath of fresh air. Three or four times a week, I lace up my shoes for an hour, two hours, three hours, usually alone. A unique opportunity to be with myself.

My wanderings led me to run ever longer distances — 10, 20, then 42 km — during which I discovered new sensations and decided to go further into ultra-marathon territory. Ultra-marathon covers distances beyond the marathon (42.195 km) — in my case, 80 km races and multi-stage events of 200 km and more.

What to take from the Marathon des Sables

For the impatient reader, the essentials:

• A solid dose of optimism
• Failure is not an option
• It’s discipline, not motivation, that keeps you moving
• The more prepared you are, the better
• You have to last to arrive

“Ah! No! That’s a bit short, young man!” Let me elaborate.

On optimism

When you begin sourcing a Java developer with seven or eight years of experience — or any rare, sought-after skill — you know one thing: this will not be simple or easy. You’ll need a solid dose of optimism, not because the mission is impossible or undoable, but because at first glance it risks being long, that there will be critical moments, moments of discouragement. And in the end, this faith in yourself, this optimism, will keep you on course when the urge to stop becomes heavy.

When I start an ultra, I don’t see the difficulty, the pain, the fatigue — they’re an integral part of the journey. I see the finish line. I take the start with this conviction anchored in my body: I’m going to make it. This isn’t naive optimism. You don’t take on 250 km without training and preparation. But when I set off, I do so with the conviction that: “I’m going to make it, because I’ve done what it takes.”

Failure is not an option

When I take the brief, I make sure I understand every aspect of the project. I weigh each parameter, I naturally involve my hiring manager in my questions: Why do you want to recruit? What’s your vision for this role? What makes this work interesting? Why would someone resign from their current job to join you? And if I approached you for this role, would you take it?

The answers matter as much as the reasoning behind them. They’re precious elements for framing the mission, for understanding and assessing its feasibility. Once it’s evaluated, measured, framed — I can start the search. In this light, failure is not an option: whatever happens, we will see it through. Sometimes we’ll need to rework the project, amend it — but we’ll see it through.

Being patient, not getting discouraged, holding on. We will live through difficult moments: the highs, then the lows. The emotional rollercoaster of a candidate who says yes, then says no. The kilometres that never seem to end. The exhaustion of starting a sourcing campaign from scratch. We’ll need to dig deep to get through. In the name of what? The desire to get there, to be a finisher. A good dose of motivation — but above all, discipline.

On discipline

Motivation alone is not enough. What keeps you moving in the hard moments is discipline. When I’m advancing at 58 degrees, body bent under the sun, the intense heat burning my face — it’s no longer motivation that keeps me going. It’s discipline. One foot in front of the other. I move forward because that’s what I have to do. It’s the job expected of me at that moment. I’m honouring the commitment I made. It’s not fun, but it’s the job: as long as my body lets me move, I move.

If sourcing currently enjoys a “fun” and “cool” aura, it is above all a profession where self-abnegation is a key component of success. When I’ve made 20 calls and been turned down 20 times, is it motivation that makes me pick up the phone for the 21st? No. It’s discipline. And the conviction that I’m going to get there, because I’m doing what it takes.

As in racing, we tend to only talk about the glittery parts, the finish line — forgetting what it took to get there. It’s laborious, not very glamorous. You have to keep going back to the work. We’re not down a mine — but still.

In 18 years of running, I’ve only ever abandoned once, due to injury. The decision was all the more difficult because I had only 30 km left to cover of the 205 in the race. On the other hand, I’ve often chosen not to start a race I’d entered, for lack of preparation, sleep, or time. But once I decide to take the start, it’s to finish. As in sourcing: there is no such thing as luck.

On preparation

Preparation is a decisive factor in success. Yet we tend to focus only on physical preparation — training, kilometres covered — when in reality, for a race like the Marathon des Sables, the physical element accounts for only a third. The rest: kit preparation, food, and mental preparation.

Brought back to sourcing: it’s not because I master Boolean search and hold a sourcing certification that I’m going to get there — at least not only. I spent a long time sourcing without knowing Google’s advanced operators, or the inner workings of GitHub. And yet I sourced and placed candidates with rare skills.

I’ve always sourced methodically: working my market mapping, taking the time to understand the professions I was hunting for, mastering all the tools at my disposal. I’ve never hesitated to spend a little time understanding a subject if it would save time later. I prepare my searches, document myself on a sector to understand its customs and codes — even if it means playing the sociologist.

The hardest part? Getting started.

While preparing for the MDS 2020, Covid forced the organisers to postpone the race by six months. A blow — but I wasn’t ready. The delay was a relief. Six months passed, another postponement. We’d go through three race postponements in all. When I received the email from the organisation on 10 August 2021, I had a choice: another postponement, or departing in October. The timing was tight, very tight. For a moment I was tempted to postpone — then finally I committed. I was ready, but anxiety and fear made me hesitate. Not for long. But hesitate, all the same.

Launching into this kind of adventure is like sourcing an unfamiliar profile for the first time: there’s an element of the unknown. An uncertainty that preparation tries to reduce. Ultimately, at some point, you have to step out of your comfort zone. Preparation had become my comfort zone — and stepping out of it meant heading into the unknown. What I don’t know is what frightens me. Fear limits us. Stepping out of your comfort zone means overcoming your fears and expanding what’s possible.

On managing your race

You don’t need to run 200 km to source effectively — obviously. But having practised both activities for 20 years, I’ve naturally seen the parallels. Beyond the solitary nature of both — just as the runner faces themselves alone during a race, the sourcer faces their screen alone, and the candidate alone — it’s a beautiful profession where our work has a genuine impact on both companies and the people we place. But it’s also a thankless, difficult, stressful profession where it’s easy to burn out. The one who lasts is not necessarily the fastest or the strongest, but the one who best manages their race. It is a profession of endurance.

A sustained effort is only sustainable because it can be broken down. When I set off on a race of over 240 km, I don’t think about that mad distance — I think about the first stage (32 km), and the first aid station, which is 12 km away. To last and finish, you must methodically break the project into stages. Don’t scatter yourself: take the time to set milestones for your sourcing campaign.

I readily admit that these principles are not exclusive to sourcing or running — you’ll find them in many other high-intensity disciplines. The essential lies elsewhere: beyond the victory and the completion, there are those difficult hours, so raw, those discouragements kept quiet, those tears shed that make the victory so beautiful.

“They didn’t know it was impossible, so they did it.” — Mark Twain