I Thought Running Was About Fitness. Turns Out, It Was About Everything Else.
Coach Janelle
Coach Janelle
Running taught me how to endure, not just in races, but in life. And I don’t mean that in a motivational-quote kind of way. I mean it in the messy, real, “I’ve cried on the side of a road, questioned everything, and still somehow laced up again the next day” kind of way.
The thing is that the biggest lessons running has taught me have almost nothing to do with running itself. So, here are a few of the lessons that changed everything for me, as a coach, as a human, and as a work-in-progress still figuring it all out.
If running has taught me anything, it’s that progress is not a straight line. We hit setbacks long before we hit breakthroughs. We have days that feel like we’ve gone backwards. We question why we even bother.
But what I’ve learned is that those hard stretches is that the injuries, the failed workouts, the DNFs, the “I don’t know if I can do this” moments, are always right before something incredible happens.
Running reminds me that life works the same way. Things usually get hard before they get better. You can’t shortcut your way through the climb, you just have to keep putting one foot in front of the other.
I used to take failure personally. Now? I take it as feedback.
When something doesn’t go to plan such as a race, a goal, a client, anything, I ask, “What’s this trying to teach me?” It’s never about punishment. It’s all about redirection.
Running has shown me that failure is part of growth. Every missed cutoff, every tough race, every bad training block, they’re not the end. They’re just the universe saying, “Okay, let’s tweak the plan and try again.”
I’m not naturally the most self-disciplined person. I tried self-coaching for a few years, and while year one went fine… year two turned into a full-on “YOLO” era. LOL. There’s a time and place for that, but not when you’re chasing big goals!
Having a coach keeps me grounded. It’s not about control, it’s about accountability. I need someone who checks in, adjusts when needed, and reminds me why I started. But even with that, I’ve learned there’s still a balance. No one can listen to my body for me, that’s still my job.
Running taught me that asking for support doesn’t make me weaker. It makes me human.
Running ultras taught me how to sit with discomfort, and that’s a lesson I carry everywhere.
When you’re deep into an ultra, nothing feels good. Your legs hurt, your brain is screaming, your stomach’s a mess, and quitting sounds really nice. But you keep moving, because you know it won’t last forever.
The same applies in life. When things feel impossible; when work is heavy, when life throws curveballs, I remind myself that nothing lasts forever. Not the climb, not the pain, not the chaos. We adapt. We problem-solve. We find new ways forward.
Because endurance really is not avoiding discomfort, but learning to move through it and lean into it.
Once upon a time, success was about PBs. Numbers on a watch. Now? It’s about joy.
If I finish a race smiling, whether I’m covered in glitter, wearing a tutu, or laughing my way through the last aid station, I consider that success. Because joy is the whole point.
Sure, I could push harder. I could shave a few minutes off my time. But what’s the point if I cross the finish line miserable?
The older I get (and the more races I do), the more I realize that the best performances come when I’m having fun.
Running might start as something we do for ourselves, but it becomes something so much bigger. The running community constantly blows me away. On the trails, you'll find people offering fuel to strangers, cheering on competitors, helping someone who’s struggling. That’s what humanity should look like, on and off the pathways.
No PB or podium makes anyone more worthy, it’s how we show up for each other that matters.
And that’s become one of my biggest purposes as a coach and community leader: to create a space where people can grow, connect, and give back. Whether it’s through our community runs, fundraising, or simply showing up for one another, that’s what this sport is really about.
Running taught me who I am and what I’m capable of. It taught me to be patient, to listen, to adapt, to give grace, to others and to myself. It taught me to endure, not by pushing harder, but by staying present and remembering why I run in the first place. And that lesson shows up every single day, when I wake up, lace up, and keep going.
Running might be the vehicle, but the real journey is who we become because of it.