A Letter to Year One Coach J
A Letter to Year One Coach J
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This week marks three years since I opened Motivated in Motion. Instead of listing milestones or highlights, I wanted to do something different.
I wrote a letter to the coach I was in year one, speaking to her in the moment when everything felt uncertain, heavy, and fragile. If you’re in a season where you’re building something, healing, or questioning yourself, this is for you too.
Dear Coach J,
You’re five months into your mental health journey right now. You’ve been on a leave of absence from your corporate job longer than you ever imagined. Generalized anxiety disorder and a major depressive episode. Words that still feel heavy in your body. You’re going to therapy, you’re trying to rebuild trust with yourself. And somehow, in the middle of all of this, you’re opening the doors to your own business. Keep being brave!
At some point the gut reaction to not go back to your corporate job is also the same gut instinct that is telling you that starting Motivated in Motion might help you heal. Trust it!
What you don’t know yet is that things are going to feel harder before they feel better. That doesn’t mean you’re doing the wrong thing.
Right now, you’re questioning everything. Why am I doing this? Is this actually worth it? Am I making a massive mistake?
You’re about to lose people you thought would be in your life for a long time. You’ll feel the sting of that deeply and it's going to take a long time to heal from it. It will make you wonder if choosing yourself was selfish. It wasn’t. Three years from now, you’ll be surrounded by a new community and friendships that feel more aligned than you ever knew was possible. You won’t look back with regret, even though it hurts like hell right now.
You’re terrified of failing. I get it. You’re walking away from stability, a good salary, benefits, and a pension. You’re scared of making a fool of yourself. Scared you’re not good enough to be a coach. Scared you don’t actually know what you’re doing.
There’s another fear you haven’t said out loud yet. What if you succeed? What if you’re actually really good at this? What if you shine in this new chapter? The truth is, the possibilities are endless. They’ll scare you and excite you in equal measure. Thats a good thing!
The learning curve is steep. You’re teaching yourself pacing, training zones, platforms, and programming. The science feels overwhelming at times. You thought you’d have a mentor guiding you through this, but that doesn’t happen the way you expected. So you learn to support yourself. You take courses. You read. You listen to podcasts. You keep showing up. Keep on grinding girl.
The coaching part comes naturally. You don’t trust that yet, but it does.
You think success means surviving. Maybe having a small handful of clients. Quietly coaching online, staying behind the scenes because you’re an introvert and that feels safer.
Here’s something you can’t see yet. You’ll say yes to a charity group run a few months from now, even though it makes you mega uncomfortable. That single yes turns into a regular community run. A group of inclusive, supportive humans who show up for one another. You didn’t plan that. You built it!
Don’t be too shocked by how much admin work this job involves. Coaching takes up less of your day than you imagined. The rest is emails, notifications, automations, websites, bookkeeping, blogs, and social posts. You’ll still hate bookkeeping, by the way, but you’ll get better at it. One day you’ll realize you’re actually a profitable business. Celebrate that win!
Something else is going to really surprise you. Your compassion. You’ve never thought of yourself as patient. You're worried about working with people in a service capacity after years in the corporate world. Yet when you put on your coach hat, something shifts. You’ll listen deeply, you’ll hold space, you’ll problem-solve when needed and simply sit with people when that’s what they need. The connections you’ll make add colour to your life you didn’t know you were missing.
I know the exact week you need to hear from me the most so brace yourself. It’s February 14–15, 2023. You’re barely a month into the business, and your whole world will suddenly feel like it’s collapsing on top of you. You don’t know what the point is anymore. Getting out of bed feels impossible.
That coaching call you’re debating cancelling because you can’t get out of bed? Cancel it. Your athlete wants you to put your oxygen mask on first. They want you healthy, not pretending.
This moment is not the end. It’s simply just a speed bump, even though it feels enormous like Mount Everest right now. Just keep going to therapy and doing the work, you’re going to have that breakthrough moment and it’s going to feel amazing. Keep showing up for yourself and for others, even when it’s messy and not at all what you imagined.
Because of who you are, you’re going to help over a hundred athletes reach their goals. You’ll build a business that grows year after year. You’ll create a brand people recognize and trust. You’ll surround yourself with other coaches who support you, challenge you, and learn from you too.
You don’t need to panic when clients come and go. It’s not personal. It’s not a reflection of your worth. Not every relationship is meant to last forever, and that’s okay. Slow seasons will come. They always do. And every time, more people will find their way to you, or back to you.
Please hear this one clearly.
Set boundaries early. For your time. For your energy. For yourself. You don’t need to be available all the time to be a good coach. Protect your working hours. Protect your relationships. You are allowed to rest.
And one more thing, because you’ll forget it when things get hard or busy.
You’re not doing this for money or recognition. You’re doing it because you know what it feels like to lose yourself in this sport. To chase goals that aren’t yours. To struggle quietly with mental health while training.
You’re here to help people find joy, learn about themselves, and feel supported. You’re here to build community. That purpose will carry you through the days when confidence doesn’t.
Just remember Coach J, I am living proof that all those early day struggles are absolutely worth it. Keep shining, keep holding your head up high because you are worth it and you are about to make a massive impact on your local running community and beyond.
Keep going.
With so much compassion,
Coach J
If this resonated, I invite you to try something similar. Write a letter to the version of yourself who’s in the middle right now, or to the version of you who started before you knew how things would unfold. You don’t need to have all the answers. Sometimes, compassion is enough.
Wherever you are in your journey, keep going.
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