On the morning of June 1, 2025, I laced up and ran four miles around Richmond. It took me 43 minutes and 30 seconds, an average of 10:41 per mile. I was overweight, out of shape, and had not worked out in a long time.
Strava saved that run, and I’m glad it did. It’s the “before” picture I didn’t know I was taking.
[Photo: Strava screenshot of the June 1, 2025 run]
The first few weeks
Nobody posts the unglamorous part. Two days into my running journey I went out again and managed 1.35 miles. Some days four miles felt possible. Other days, getting out the door was the whole victory.
I do not know what caused me to go on that run on June 1st. Was it random? Maybe. Was it because deep down I knew it was time for a change? Perhaps. All I know is since that hot summer day on June 1st, running has taught me many valuable lessons that translate into other aspects of life.
What kept me going wasn’t motivation. Motivation came and went. It was the decision to show up again the next day, whatever happened the day before.
Small wins, stacked up
Running is honest. Nobody can do the miles for you, and none of them are wasted. They add up quietly until one day you notice something has changed.
In June I ran 51 miles.
On August 24 I ran my first 10-miler.
On October 10, for the first time, I held under seven minutes a mile for more than three miles.
On October 23 I ran 13.1 miles, a half marathon on an ordinary weekday.
In November I ran 173 miles.
None of those days felt dramatic. Most were just another morning run. But between June 1 and Thanksgiving I logged 113 runs and 540 miles, and somewhere along the way I went from about 230 pounds to about 185.
Race day
On Thanksgiving morning I lined up for the Richmond Turkey Trot.
[Photo: Turkey Trot 5K]
It hurt from the first mile to the last. My legs burned, my lungs burned, and somewhere in the middle my mind started making the case for easing off. Every time it did, I thought about the 540 miles I’d run since June and kept pushing. I ran faster than I believed I could. When I crossed the finish line, it all landed at once: months of early mornings, sore legs and showing up when I didn’t feel like it had added up to something real. I wasn’t just tired. I was proud.
[Photo: Turkey Trot 5K]
[Photo: 5K Results]
Six months earlier, my 5K split on that first run had been 33:27. That morning I crossed the line in 18:37, under six minutes a mile, and finished 20th out of 1,230 runners.
What running gave me that I didn’t expect
I started running to get in shape. What surprised me was everything else it gave me.
Mental resilience. Every run includes a moment when you want to stop. Pushing through it a few hundred times teaches you that discomfort is temporary and usually smaller than it feels. That carries over into work, relationships and hard days.
Clarity. Some of my best thinking happens on long runs. Problems that felt tangled in the morning often look simple by the time I’m back home after a run.
Proof that consistency works. It’s easy to know that small daily efforts compound. It’s different to watch it happen in your own logbook: 10:41 a mile turning into 5:59, one ordinary day at a time.
A better relationship with myself. Keeping a promise to yourself, day after day, builds a kind of confidence that doesn’t depend on anyone else.
If you’re on day one
If you’re trying to lose weight, or out of shape, or just starting something new, my advice is simple: your first attempt doesn’t have to be good. It just has to happen. Then do it again.
This applies to any area in life you want to improve on.
You won’t see progress day to day. Look back after a month, then after six, and you’ll barely recognize where you started.
I’m still running and still learning. This blog is where I’ll share what I find along the way. Thanks for being here.
— Alex