What 20 Years of Running Taught Me About "Running" a Business 🏃♀️
I’ve been a consistent runner for over half my life now. The spark was the Boston Marathon.I spent the first 21 years of my life living along the course.
Countless childhood memories of watching thousands of runners fly by my neighborhood and thinking “how is this even possible?” I’d stick my arm out to collect as many high fives as I could, with plenty of sweaty, salty, sunscreened arms reaching from out of the way to give kid me a smile. “Could I ever do that?”
That same inspiration and awe and joy returns every year. Yesterday morning, I worked through my inboxes on one screen while streaming finish line coverage on the other. (I would not recommend if you’re not okay with spontaneous tears mid-email.)
Watching the stragglers is, in my opinion, more meaningful than watching the frontrunners. The last person to cross the Boston official finish this year was 64 year old Ruby Thomas, from my mom’s hometown of Dorchester. It was her first marathon, and she was supported with cheers even as the crew dismantled the finish line structure. (Returns to tissues.)
Toggling between virtual spectating and work emails, I found myself wondering how each of the folks crossing that line would leave Copley Square with some kind of lesson, some story from training or racing to keep tucked away to apply to the rest of life. I realized that so much of what I believe about running a business comes from what I learned after nearly two decades of running myself!
6 Business Lessons I Stole from Running ✏️
1. 80% easy, 20% hard. ⌚
The 80/20 endurance philosophy changed my running in countless ways. It’s what helped me stay injury-free and burnout-free through a handful of ultramarathons, including a 100 miler. 80% of my training is at an effort that feels like an “all-day” pace. An effort I could hold a conversation at (and do, as my voice memo friends will attest). 20% of my time spent training is at moderate to hard effort (hill sprints, intervals, etc.).That’s what I want for my business, too: 80% of my working minutes should feel pretty easy. Not lazy easy or phoning-it-in easy, but within an enjoyable range where I don’t need to white-knuckle anything or end up face-down on the couch at 4pm wondering why I chose to work without employer benefits and PTO.And the 20% hard work is necessary too; it’s what helps me grow, drives me to learn, encourages me to celebrate Feral Fridays (I’ve got a group chat if you wanna join us in taking one bold-scary action a week! Email me!). It makes me pitch a new program, launch a new workshop, have a hard conversation, take a moonshot. But if I treat every day like the 20%, I’ve got nothing left when the real 20% shows up.I’ve nailed 80/20 in my running. Admittedly, I have not nailed it in business, and find myself in “hard effort” too often, leading to mental injury and burnout. But I’m working towards it, and already feel the difference.
2. Every workout (and task) needs a purpose. ✨
A great training plan will not say “go run.” It will not say “Just go hit 16 miles.”A great training plan will make sure every workout has a specific why behind it. Is it a long run to build an aerobic base? Hill repeats to build power? A recovery jog to let my legs remember what easy feels like? Every session has a job, and even better if it’s a job specific to the goal race!I’ve noticed over the years that I can easily fall into the trap of “do it just because you can.” I find myself mindlessly saying yes to favors, accepting coffee calls that creep into free consulting territory, refreshing my inbox one more time just to see what’s come in from the past 5 minutes. 😬I’m working on not putting a task on my to-do list unless it has a specific, desired outcome attached to it. Yeah, I will break rules when I feel like it — just like some days, it’s more resonant to go on a “fun run” than to hit any particular splits. But I don’t want my to-do list to be a pile of things that felt urgent at some point and got written down and somehow become guilt-inducing and vaguely overwhelming.Share
3. Process goals over outcome goals. 💪
What got me to finish a 100 miler and a 50 miler through wildfire smoke wasn’t a goal time or a podium dream. It was the less sexy form of goal: process goals.“Eat at every aid station.” “Thank every volunteer.” “Electrolytes every 45 minutes.” I can control the process. But I can’t fully control my chip time.Same at work. “End goals” have yet to work for me! I personally haven’t set a revenue goal or “land X clients by DATE” goal or a “Y number of subscribers” goal. And while there’s certainly a place for those outcome goals — and I should honestly probably pull them in more often, hehe — I wouldn’t get close to them without process goals.I’m not trying to feel good about my business for just two weeks after a big finish line success. I’m trying to feel good on a random Wednesday in February when nothing’s starting up and I’m just doing the work. I want to be showing up with joy, taking plenty of breaks, meeting new people I care about.Outcome takes care of itself if the process is solid. And the process is the part where you actually, hello, live your life.
4. Action over time beats one big swing. 🧱
One thing I want every runner to know: You don’t ever have to be perfect, have a “perfect” run. You do need to build a foundation over time, small step by small step.Some runners edge into hypervigilance: “I need to do the workout perfectly: full mileage, precise effort, dialed nutrition — if not, it’s not worth doing.”I see this in women racing at Wild Woman every year. They write in to drop to a shorter distance because they missed one long run, or they got sick for a week, or they had a rough month. And I want to shake them. Elite runners miss long runs too! You can do 60% of a training plan and still finish a 50k! I’d bet on it.The running community loves the metaphor of stacking bricks. The idea is that you build anything that matters one small unit at a time. No single brick looks like much; the wall is the point. A writing career isn’t built in one viral post. A fitness base isn’t built in one heroic long run. A business isn’t built in one launch. You stack one brick then another, another. Most of them are unremarkable on their own. Five years later you turn around and ooooh there’s a big strong wall! 🤩A crappy 3-mile shuffle is a brick. A shitty first draft of the newsletter you hit publish on is a brick. A half-hour of sponsor outreach is a brick. The glorious 15-miler you didn’t do because you couldn’t make it perfect? That’s not a brick. That’s just a hole where a brick should be.Share ✨ BLOOD, SWEAT & FEAR
5. You can’t specialize in everything. 🏅
Training for a 5k looks very different from training for a 50k. (If I were training for a 5k, I’d be hitting much faster paces than I do!) A sprint vs. mid-distance vs. ultra race all differ in pacing strategy, fuel, mileage, workout structure, even mindset.You can succeed beautifully in both. But not both at once. The runner who wins the Boston Marathon isn’t going to win an Olympic 100M dash that year (or likely ever let’s be real).I believe this in all of life (a lesson I learned from the menstrual cycle, actually): You can have it all, just not all at once. But I’m alwaaays re-learning it. Because as a multi-passionate, I want to do everything! The races, the podcast, the book, the workshop, the fundraising, this Substack, the retreats, the consulting, the local Gorge events. And I can do all of those things. Just not in the same quarter, or I start dropping balls, burnout out, and kinda hating things I love.When I try to do be fantastic at too many things, I do not get fantastic at anything, and end up resentful. Note to self: Pick the race, train for it, leave the rest. The other races will still be there when you’re done, for the next season.Leave a comment
6. It’s supposed to be fun. 🥳
Y’all. Tax Day last week mentally ripped me apart. I didn’t expect it to be so horrific but I guess that’s what happens when you accidentally underpay insurance, intentionally underpay quarterly, have two partnership LLCs and one individual business with like 12 different 1099s and hired $10,000 worth of subcontractor labor and and and…My work is, clearly, complicated. I have a lot to simplify in the future. But if I let that take control of my mental state, like say, during Tax Week, the fun seeps out and leaves me grumpy AF.Corporate biz culture sometimes assumes that seriousness and suffering are the same thing. But I ran a 100-mile race partly for fun. I am not confused about whether hard things can also be fun. They absolutely can!When the shit gets tough, fun is the antidote I need to remember. I can make a Bingo Board like I did with Emily in Q4 2025, I can create my Feral Fridays weekly holiday, I can peace out from the laptop and go ski down a volcano. I can pitch a heroine for a coffee chat, I can bring a new offer to life, I can be a guest on a podcast I love.The reason I’m still running 20 years in is because most days I love getting out for miles. The reason I’m still in my own business is because most days I love, or at least like, what I’m doing, most of the time. If most of my work felt awful most of the time, I wouldn’t be tough. I’d be on the fast track to quitting.So even when it’s rainy, even when taxes are due, it’s my focus to find the fun.