The power of small steps
Nothing taught me more about the power of taking one step at a time than training for my first race: a 10K that I signed up for at the beginning of the year.
But that’s not where my journey with running started.
It began in 2019, when I lived in an apartment building across the street from a trail that surrounded a beautiful park. I had run a bit here and there in the past—never more than a single mile at a time—but seeing people running on the trail inspired me to give it a real try. I started running on the trail and challenged myself to go a little farther each time, and I documented my journey on social media. That’s when a friend of mine, who is an avid runner, recommended a book to me called Let Your Mind Run.
There was something about that book that spoke to me. I realized that running was just as much a mental game as a physical one (if not more) and that it both challenged and empowered me. I never thought I could be someone who ran more than a couple of miles at a time, and I wanted to find out if that was really true.
Shortly after reading the book, I became obsessed with running. I would run around that trail several times a week, and before I knew it, I was running seven or eight miles at a time. Running became more than just a hobby; it was critical self-care for my mind, body, and soul.
If you run, I have a feeling that you get what I’m talking about. And if you don’t, think of that thing you love to do that nourishes every part of you. That is what running became for me.
That’s why it felt so confusing when, one day, I just . . . stopped.
Part of it was because I moved out of that apartment building and away from the trail I loved. I also started to dabble in other areas of fitness and found myself becoming interested in other hobbies. But every time I would pass someone who was running while I was out for a walk or in a car, I would feel a pang of longing inside of me. I really missed it.
My husband and I moved into our new home last April, and it just so happens to be near a beautiful running track. I thought that would be enough to motivate me to run again, but it didn’t. The thing is that I wanted so badly to run those longer distances again and feel the way running always made me feel, but I knew I’d have to start over. It had been a long time since I’d run consistently, and I would have to work back up to that kind of mileage. No matter what I tried, I couldn’t get over that hump.
That changed in January.
I was thinking about my intentions for the year, and I couldn’t shake my longing to run. I had a moment where I got really honest with myself. Here was this thing that I really wanted to do, and yet, I wasn’t doing anything to make it happen. So . . . what would it take?
That’s what led me to type “10K races in Houston” into a Google search bar on January 2nd. I had never run a race before, so that felt like a new and exciting challenge, but even more than that, I knew that a race would hold me accountable. A 10K (6.2 miles) would be a tough distance to conquer since I had taken a break from running, and the only way I could do it is if I trained consistently.
I chose a race called Lovestruck, which was six weeks away. I picked it because of the name: To me, signing up for this race was an act of self-love. I was making a promise to myself that I would do the thing I had been missing and that I knew I loved.
I found an eight-week 10K training plan online and condensed it a bit. There were certain weeks when I knew I wouldn’t be able to follow the plan exactly, so I made a deal with myself that I could deviate from it as long as I completed all the runs it suggested, even if they needed to happen at different times.
I was surprised by how equally difficult and empowering it became to train for this race.
My first training run was two miles. I hadn’t even made it through the first mile before I wanted to give up. I was out of breath, and my pace was nowhere close to what it had once been. I remember thinking there was no way I’d be able to get to 6.2 miles in just six weeks, and I questioned if signing up for this race was a good idea.
But then, in that same moment, I thought back to how I had felt when I first started running in 2019. It had felt really hard, and I got through it. I found myself tapping into the same mindset I learned then: Instead of thinking about the whole run, I just needed to focus on putting one foot in front of the other.
So that’s what I did. Eventually, I hit the two-mile mark. It wasn’t pretty, but I finished those two miles without stopping.
That became my way of training: Anytime I thought about running 6.2 miles, it felt so daunting, so I just . . . stopped thinking about it. I took it one step at a time, focusing only on the distance I needed to run that day instead of my big goal. It helped me stay grounded and made the race feel attainable.
Of course, not every day was easy.
The way my training plan worked is that I’d have shorter runs on some days and longer ones on others. Some of my most challenging runs were the shorter ones, which was so frustrating. I remember really struggling to finish a three-mile run just a few days after I had successfully run five miles.
Again, I wanted to give up. But I reminded myself that I had done this before and could do it again. I didn’t need to focus on the runs behind or ahead of me. All that mattered was the run I was on right now, and I needed to keep my focus there. That way of thinking got me to the three-mile mark.
Every week, I steadily upped my mileage and my pace. I never once stopped or gave up during a run, and I didn’t miss a single run in my training plan. Next thing I knew, my average pace was rivaling my paces when I was at my peak.
And then came race day. February 15th.
Because of the way the training plan was set up, the race would be my first time running the full 6.2 miles. The most I had done in my plan up to that point was 5.5 miles, so I knew I would need to rely on my mindset of taking it one step at a time to hit my goal.
When I arrived at the starting line, I remember feeling so proud of myself for being there. It was like I didn’t even need the race to feel a sense of accomplishment: I had honored the commitment I made to myself and reignited my spark for running, which was everything I had hoped for. I didn’t do this because I wanted to win or compete with others . . . I did it for me, and I had accomplished that.
Still, though, the race was an important part of my journey. It was the culmination of all of my training and weeks of hard work. At the beginning of my training, I set two goals for myself for race day: to finish without stopping, and to have an average pace of less than 10 minutes per mile. It was time to see it through.
As soon as the race started, it was electrifying. I can’t explain the feeling of being surrounded by people who have committed to themselves in the same way. I was overwhelmed with inspiration. Anytime I wanted to give up, I just looked around me, and seeing other runners continuing to put one foot in front of the other helped me to do the same.
Crossing the finish line was so emotional. (Like I actually cried.) Just six weeks earlier, I didn’t think I was capable of running 6.2 miles, and here I was doing it. Not only did I finish the race without stopping, but I also ran the fastest 10K I’ve ever run, even compared to when I used to run all the time. My average pace was 9:07/mile.
After I crossed the finish line, I called my husband to tell him how it went, and he suggested I check the results of the race online. That thought hadn’t even crossed my mind because I wasn’t there to compete. I checked it out, and to my complete surprise, I placed 21st out of the 107 people who ran the 10K with me. I came in third in my age group and eighth overall for my gender! I still can’t believe it.
This is the power of small steps.
This is the power of focusing on the day in front of you instead of focusing on how far you have left to go.
This is the power of breaking down a big goal into smaller milestones in order to stay engaged and empowered.
In this example, it’s running, but it could be anything. Take writing a book, for example: If you keep thinking about how hard it’s going to be to write an entire book, you’ll never finish it. But if you stay focused on writing the first page, and then the second, next thing you know, you’ll have a chapter. On the days when you struggle, remind yourself that you’ve written a page before and you can do it again. And if you do that long enough, one day, you’ll look up and realize you’ve written the whole thing.
No matter what we are working toward in our lives, whether we will achieve our goals or not comes down to our approach and our mindset.
I’m curious about you. What’s a goal you’ve achieved that you are really proud of? How did you get there? Maybe you have a goal in front of you right now that you are struggling with. What do you think is blocking you? Whether it’s something in your work or outside of it, I’d love to know. Hit “reply” and share your story!
As for me, I am continuing to learn the lessons I’ve shared in this blog post. Shortly after my 10K, I decided to sign up for my next race, a 15K (9.3 miles!), that is happening in April. I’ve been training for it, and I find myself thinking the same thoughts: How am I going to get to nine miles?
I know exactly how.
One step at a time :)
Big hugs,
