My feet hit the pavement as cold air fills my lungs, and I exhale. 

I hate running. 

I’m not sure if the genesis of my disdain for the simple human act of running came from my elementary physical education classes that pushed an overweight, out-of-shape, and outcast little third grader to the limit or if it was the “long-run” days we had in wrestling where we simply ran laps around the school, up the stairs to the wrestling room and then back around again. Somewhere along the line, I grew to despise running. 

Yet, here I am. 

I am on mile seven of a 20-mile run, preparing for a marathon. I don’t know why I am running a marathon. 

Well, that isn’t true. 

I am running the marathon because a friend asked me to run a marathon. It’s how this kind of ridiculous thing started – he sent a text message about it. He played it perfectly, too. He acknowledged that I had been getting in much better shape, and it inspired him to do the same. Nothing like some ego stroking to set up the ask. Then he dropped the “You know, I would like to run a marathon” card down via iMessage. I said, “You should run one in Arizona in January – it is perfect!”

Within days, we were both signed up. 

And then, several weeks later, after I sent many texts for training updates and received no reply, he let me know that unforeseen circumstances were forcing him to drop out.

And then there was one. 

The temptation emerged to quit. Do I really want to run 26.2 miles alone? I could stop training right now, and nobody would know – nobody would be let down. The door was open.

But I couldn’t stomach the wasted work. I had been dutifully adding miles to my existing morning Crossfit routine. I was preparing to do this, and if I needed to do it alone, so be it. Cue a slight gag reflex.

Did I mention I hate running?

As I plod down a vacant trail, my camelback sloshing and my half-broken headphones pumping “Alternative Workout” from Apple Music, I start to debate with myself if I want to actually complete the miles I planned that day in the way I planned them. This is supposed to be my last long run before dialing back training to recover before the race. 

I could cut it short. 

I think of all the reasons why: these new shoes hurt and are probably giving me blisters, my ankles are sore and are likely making me prone to injury… I just don’t want to do it. 

I keep running as I reason with myself. That’s when it hits me. 

Running is physical, certainly. A person needs a certain level of fitness to run for longer periods of time and a certain athleticism to run at higher speeds. For those of us in the general population who aren’t going to run competitively, why even try to run the marathon?

The mentality is what matters. 

Does fitness look different for every person? Absolutely. What “fitness” means to me as a nearly 40-year-old man looks different than when I was an 18-year-old wrestling team captain. The mentality is what matters. The mentality can stay the same. It can even get better with time.

Running is hard; that’s why I hate it. It is long and boring. I am not fast over long distances, so when I am running with a group of people, I typically get passed by faster runners. It can be discouraging.

But all of those things are in my mind. That is why I am debating whether or not to end my run early. That is why I hate running. It tests my mental game, but I was fooled into thinking it was physical. I was playing the wrong game. 

Rather than making excuses or trying to find out why this whole marathon endeavor is worthless, I pick up the pace and change my mindset. This could be bigger than completing a marathon or finishing up the 20 miles I am slated for today. This could be about me overcoming challenging moments that require mentality over talent, endurance, or fitness. This could be about the mindset necessary to do hard things when there is an easy way out. 

Being committed to family when life is hectic, stressful, or even routine. 

Engaging in my job even when the work is routine and boring. 

Committing to a daily routine of prayer, even when I don’t “feel anything” or it seems like there is something “more productive” to do.

Those are mental challenges, and it doesn’t matter if I have all the talent, personality, and skill set to handle them if I don’t have the right mindset. The mindset is everything. 

The mindset is that almost anyone can run a marathon with consistent training. 

Someone once told me that the long runs in the training regiment of most marathon programs stop being about conditioning at a certain point and become more about mentality. After a particular mileage, you can physically push through the entire 26.2 miles—especially if you aren’t running competitively. The weekly “long runs” become about developing the mental toughness and mindset to actually do what your body is capable of. 

It is about knowing you can do it, even when that tiny voice says, “Take this side street and cut the route short.”

I am on mile 10 of a 20-mile run, and I’ve decided to try to hit my best half-marathon pace and beat it for the next three miles before I dial it back in the last seven. I am going to because I don’t think I am capable of it – I know I am. On top of that, I am confident that, while I won’t post an incredible or even close to the top 100 times for that marathon, I will complete it and do the very best for myself that day. I have the mindset for that and many other things beyond that race. 

My feet hit the pavement as the sun starts to warm the cool Arizona air around me. The next song comes on the Alternative Workout playlist, and I push my pace a few seconds faster. 

I love running.