March 2027 · Book tie-in: Prologue · Joshua 1:9
Here’s how you become a better, stronger, smarter runner today — by finding stillness under pressure, and a reason to go that is bigger than the stopwatch.
You’re at the start line of something you’re not sure you can finish. Not a race — something bigger. A comeback. A new attempt. A try again.
This post brings faith into the conversation directly. Not as a religious lecture. As the honest source of the courage that keeps showing up in my story. If you’re a runner of faith, I hope it encourages you. If you’re not sure what faith even means in this context, I hope you’ll stay curious.
Courage is not the absence of fear
I have never stood at a start line without fear. Not at my first Comrades. Not at the start of twelve marathons in twelve days. Not at the start of a new job in a country where I didn’t speak the language.
Courage, as I’ve lived it, is simple: the fear is there, and you go anyway. The body shakes a little. The stomach turns. And you take the first step.
“Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.”
— Joshua 1:9
Notice it’s a command, not a feeling. You don’t wait to feel courageous. You choose it. And the reason you can choose it is in the last line: wherever you go, you’re not going alone.
Where the verse showed up for me
Faith isn’t abstract when you’ve needed it. A few specific moments:
- Over the Highveld, as a young man. Three friends in a small rented Piper, flying home from Kimberley. The engine wouldn’t climb in the thin, hot air. The altimeter refused us. We did the only thing left: silent prayers. The aircraft came home. I’ve never forgotten how quiet we were in the car afterwards.
- In Austria, kilometre 28, during 504 kilometres across Europe. The legs stopped. Every good reason had become just words. Standing on a freezing roadside, what I needed wasn’t more willpower. It was the sense of not being alone out there.
- In a truck cab at five in the morning. After the business failed and the house was gone, I prayed in the cab and read scripture in the breaks. And I ran in the early mornings before shifts. The verse didn’t change my bank balance. It changed the man driving.
Faith as a running tool — not a shortcut
Let me be clear about what faith is not. It’s not a way to skip training. It won’t make a 4:30 marathoner run 3:00 next month. Anyone who promises that is selling something.
What faith gives a runner is stillness under pressure. When the race goes wrong — cramp at 30K, a fall, a DNF — the runner with no anchor spirals. The runner with an anchor has somewhere to stand.
In practice, that looks like:
- A verse as an anchor word. Pick one short line. “Be strong and courageous.” Say it silently on the hardest hill. Link it to your breathing — in on “be strong”, out on “and courageous”.
- A pre-run pause. Thirty seconds at the door before you go. Not a performance. Just gratitude that you get to run today.
- Handing over the outcome. You control the effort. You don’t control the weather, the course, or the result. Letting that go frees up energy for running.
Wherever you go — daily training
“Wherever you go” isn’t only race day. It’s the Tuesday 5K in the rain. It’s the early run before work. It’s the easy jog while travelling in a city you don’t know.
That’s why I love the idea behind Make 365 Days Count — a daily run, minimum 5K, for a year. A streak like that becomes more than training. It becomes a daily practice of showing up, including on the days you’d rather not. For me, the early run has always been the one part of the day with no screens and room to think, pray, or simply breathe.
The water teaches the same calm. Learning to breathe easily in front crawl — without rushing, without panic — is one of the big steps in From Runner to Efficient Swimmer. Stillness under pressure, in a different element.
An invitation, not a sermon
In Try Again, faith isn’t a chapter. It’s the undercurrent. It was there at school in Pretoria, in the army, in thirty years of hotel rooms, and it was there in the kitchen at three in the morning when the money was gone.
This is what it has meant in my life. I’m not going to tell you what it should mean in yours.
Your action step
Tomorrow, before your run, stand at your front door for thirty seconds. Breathe. Choose one line — Joshua 1:9 or your own — as your anchor for the run. Use it when it gets hard.
Then ask yourself:
What would I attempt this year if I truly believed I wasn’t going alone?
Take it easy, and God bless.
— Heiko