What running 10,000 miles taught me

Reading Time: 4 minutes

I recently logged my 10,000th mile since I started running a little over 10 years ago. After taking a few weeks to process it, I realized that I’ve learned some really valuable lessons along the way that have less to do with running and a whole lot more to do with life. Here they are, in no particular order:

If you wait for the perfect time, you’ll be waiting a long time

I remember when I first started running. I didn’t have any fancy equipment – no wearable gadgets like Garmins or Fitbits, no way to capture the distance I’d run or how hard my heart was working during the run. I used a stopwatch to time the run and then I would get in my car afterwards to “drive” my run and get the distance. A little math would then give me a pace for the run and I’d rinse and repeat the next time. The point here is that I started running long before I had the things that I have now. Waiting on the perfect time to start something is the perfect recipe for failure. Simply begin.

[Tweet “Waiting on the perfect time to start something is the perfect recipe for failure. Simply begin.”]

When I started, I thought this would make me an expert

At some point, the stopwatch and car thing got old and I knew I needed a better way to log my runs. I’m not totally sure how I found Running Ahead’s website, but I did. Early on, I can remember seeing a post in the user forums about a runner who had just logged his 10,00th mile. The enormity of that number was almost too much for a beginner like me to wrap my brain around, but I do remember thinking that if I ever hit that number, I’d be an elite runner. But now that I have, I realize that running a lot of miles doesn’t make me an expert. It simply makes me a runner who knows more than I did back then. Sometimes in life we see people who are farther down the road than we are and assume that we’ll be (fill in the blank) once we get where they are. The truth is that none of us has arrived at our destination, and while I definitely know more where I am than I did where I was, I’ll never get where I’m going if I think I know it all now.

[Tweet “You may know more where you are than you did where you were, but you won’t get where you’re going if you think you know it all now.”]

Most of those miles were ordinary and unspectacular

My first marathon. My first ultra. That time I ran 50 miles on my 50th birthday. Looking back on my decade of running, I can definitely highlight some moments that I’ll never forget. But the vast majority of those 10,000 miles were ordinary, unspectacular, and often run alone. So often we put such a high emphasis on the big things that we forget to value all the little things that led up to them. Quite frankly, there’s no medal without mettle.

[Tweet “When it comes to achievements, there’s no medal without mettle.”]

Do not despise these small beginnings, for the Lord rejoices to see the work begin. (Zechariah 4:10)

Never underestimate the cumulative power of small things. As you do them consistently, they tend to grow into something bigger. Extraordinary moments are fueled by ordinary habits.

[Tweet “Extraordinary moments are fueled by ordinary habits.”]

Getting out the door still requires a choice

One of the most surprising things I’ve learned is that making something a habit isn’t synonymous with that something being easy. When I first started running, I mistakingly assumed that one day I’d be in such good shape that a mile run or a 5k race would be easy. How wrong I was! Even after 10,000+ miles, I find the first mile of any run the least enjoyable. I fight the hardest mental battles right before a run and during the beginning of a run, and that will probably never change. We know that success isn’t achieved on autopilot. We tend to forget that it isn’t maintained on autopilot, either. 

[Tweet “Success isn’t achieved on autopilot. It isn’t maintained on autopilot, either.”]

After 10k miles, I’m just getting started

We all know them. The story tellers. The middle aged men talking about their high school glory days. The people standing still because they’re so busy looking back that they have no vision for the future. It’s easy to become those people, because that requires no effort.

That may be the greatest thing I’ve learned in all of this: it’s way too easy to stop. To sit back and think that what we’ve done entitles us to coast. But I refuse, and I want you to refuse, too. 10,000 miles IS a big accomplishment, but it’s the floor, not the ceiling. In fact, it is an amazing foundation on which to build something even greater, and so I’m going to stay hungry. I’m going to keep dreaming about where my consistent, ordinary habits could take me.

[Tweet “When big accomplishments are the ceiling, we’re done, but when they’re the floor, we’re just getting started and the best is yet to come.”]

The best is yet to come, and while it may be harder to believe the farther down the road we go, we can’t give in to the dream-killing, energy-robbing belief that our best days are behind us.

They aren’t. Get out the door and keep going.

Facebook Comments

comments