For most of my life, I believed running wasn’t for me.
Not casually — firmly.
I wasn’t good at it growing up. I was always out of breath. Always falling behind. I remember coaches asking if I had asthma. I said yes, even though I didn’t. It was easier than admitting I just couldn’t keep up.
So I avoided running altogether.
I lifted weights. I focused on nutrition. I built strength instead of endurance. Even later, as a personal trainer, I carried that belief forward. I told clients that cardio wasn’t necessary if they ate well and built muscle. In many cases, that advice worked.
But it wasn’t the full picture.
Why Running Felt So Miserable for Me
Looking back now, I didn’t hate running.
I hated how it made me feel when I wasn’t prepared for it.
Running exposed everything I was bad at — quickly. My heart rate would spike. My breathing felt chaotic. My legs burned long before I felt “warmed up.” I hated how it felt to be so weak at an activity, for something to be so hard that I avoided it completely.
Every run felt like confirmation that I wasn’t built for this.
So I stopped trying.
That’s what most people do.
The Shift Didn’t Start With Loving Running
The shift didn’t come from suddenly enjoying it.
It came from approaching it differently.
Decades later, when I started running, I didn’t chase speed. I didn’t chase distance. I focused on staying controlled — heart rate in check, effort sustainable, recovery intentional. Since my HR would spike within minutes I needed to find a way to make running sustainable.
Runs became slower. Shorter. More repeatable.
And something unexpected happened:
They stopped wrecking me.
From Avoidance to Accumulation
The confidence didn’t arrive all at once.
It stacked quietly.
A run that didn’t feel miserable.
A longer run that didn’t leave me in pain for days.
A 20-mile long run that felt hard — but manageable.
That run changed everything.
Not because it was fast.
Not because it was impressive.
But because I felt good afterward.
That had never happened before.
Why Most People Think They Hate Running
Most people think they hate running because their introduction to it was flawed.
They ran too hard, too often, without fuel, without recovery, and without patience. Then they assumed the discomfort meant something was wrong with them.
That belief sticks for years.
But running isn’t about talent or background. It’s about respecting adaptation.
When you fuel properly, manage effort, and recover consistently, running stops feeling like punishment and starts feeling like practice.
Running Became Something Else
At some point after hitting my first 5k run, running stopped being a test and became a tool.
Time alone.
Time to think.
Time to process.
It became a form of moving meditation — something I’d never associated with training or working out before.
That’s when the perspective shifted.
Not because I declared myself a runner, but because my actions proved it over time.
If You Think You Hate Running
I used to think the same thing.
What I actually hated was running because it was hard, painful and exposed my weaknesses. Once I had a framework that allowed my body to adapt, running became more than a habit.
Running didn’t change who I was — it revealed what was possible once I stayed consistent long enough.
You don’t need to love running to benefit from it.
You just need to approach it in a way your body can absorb.
the full story here - Dan's Diary