Running Isn't Really the Point

I love running.

I love chasing a time that scares me a little. I love early mornings, long runs with good people, finish lines, the nervous energy before a race, and the satisfaction of looking back at something hard and knowing I gave it everything I had.

I'm competitive. Probably more competitive than I should admit.

But the longer I do this, the more I realize that running isn't really the point.

I grew up as an athlete. Soccer eventually took me to the Division I level, and for years, being an athlete meant practices, lifts, coaches, teammates, schedules, expectations and competition.

It taught me how to work.

Show up when you don't feel like it. Do the boring stuff. Be coachable. Push when things get uncomfortable. Give your best effort because other people are counting on you.

I carried all of that with me when I found endurance sports.

And then running started teaching me some different lessons.

Sometimes working harder isn't the answer.

Sometimes the disciplined choice is slowing down.

Sometimes toughness means pushing through discomfort, and sometimes it means having enough self-awareness to recognize that your body is asking for something different.

Sometimes the workout you didn't finish is more valuable than the one you forced yourself to complete.

I've had to learn that training is practice, not performance. I don't have to prove how fit I am every Tuesday morning. I don't have to earn recovery. And my worth certainly doesn't change because of the number on a finish-line clock.

That doesn't mean I've become less competitive.

Quite the opposite.

I still want to see how fast I can run. I still sign up for things that scare me. I still want to find the edges of what I'm capable of.

I just think there is a better way to chase those things.

That's really where the concept of “Catalyst” comes from.

I believe big goals can change us. Not because a marathon medal magically makes us different people, but because pursuing something difficult has a funny way of exposing us.

It shows us where we're impatient. Where we're afraid. Where we make excuses. Where we need other people. Where we need to let go of control. And, every once in a while, it shows us that the limits we placed on ourselves weren't actually limits at all.

That's the part I love.

As a coach, I care about paces, workouts, mileage and race results. Of course I do. Those things matter.

But I care even more about the person doing the training.

I want the mom with three available running days to know that her training doesn't have to look like someone else's to count.

I want the former athlete who knows how to push to learn that restraint can be a competitive skill too.

I want the brand-new runner to stop wondering whether they're "fast enough" to belong here.

And I want the experienced runner chasing a huge PR to chase it with everything they've got, without letting the result decide who they are.

My faith is at the center of how I see all of this. I believe we've been given abilities, opportunities, relationships and potential worth stewarding well. Running is one small way I get to practice that.

So yes, Catalyst is about running.

We'll talk about training. Racing. Recovery. Fueling. Mistakes I've made. Things I'm learning. Coaching. Big goals and probably a healthy amount of suffering for fun.

But underneath all of it, I hope this space is about something bigger:

Work hard. Love people. Stay curious. Chase things that scare you. Hold the results loosely.

And keep finding out what you're capable of.