Extra Blog 01 — The Run That Changed Everything
Here’s how you become a stronger runner today — better and smarter too — by showing up to the start line you almost didn’t enter.
Picture yourself standing at the start of a race you nearly talked yourself out of. Heart pounding. Legs fresh. Everyone around you looks fitter, lighter, more sure of themselves. And somewhere inside, a quiet voice is asking: what if this time is different?
That moment — the one where you choose to show up anyway — is what this blog is about. Not the medal. Not the finish photo. The decision at the line.
Where it started for me
Running was not my idea. At school in Pretoria, athletics was not optional. Every pupil took part in something. I was tall and thin, and a teacher looked at me and said, “You are going to be a great runner.” So I was selected for running.
Nobody handed us a pair of shoes and told us to go. We were taught. The older boys showed the younger ones how to pace, how to breathe on the climbs, how to push through the point where the legs wanted to stop. The running coach would talk about the Comrades Marathon as if we were all going to run it one day — this is how you will get up Polly’s. There was always someone ahead of you setting the example, and someone behind you telling you not to give up.
I did not know it then, but they were not only producing runners. They were building something that would carry me through thirty years of work in more than twenty countries.
The first time running felt like more than exercise
For me it was a hill in Oudtshoorn, during army training. The rule was simple and brutal: sprint up, round the marker, race back down inside the time. If the last man missed the time, the whole group ran it again. And again.
Somewhere in the early afternoon heat, on another repeat, something landed that I have never been able to shake: we are capable of far more than we think. Not as a slogan. In the body. I watched men who were stronger and better built than me quit. And I watched ordinary men keep going.
That was the day running stopped being a sport and became a tool.
Attitude beats ability — how a stronger runner is built
Here is what I have seen in myself and in the runners I have coached since. Talent decides how fast you start. Attitude decides whether you are still running in five years.
The runners who continue are not the ones who never doubt. They doubt like everyone else. The difference is simple:
- They show up before they feel ready.
- They treat a bad day as information, not as a verdict.
- They measure themselves against their last run, not against the person next to them.
The runners who stop usually stop in their heads first. The legs follow.
A verse, not a sermon
There is a verse that has stood next to me at many start lines — race start lines and life start lines.
“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 what it does not say. It does not say you will feel strong. It says be strong — which means choose it. Courage is not the absence of fear at the line. Courage is the fear, plus the first step.
In my book Try Again I open with a small aircraft over the South African Highveld, three young men, and an engine that would not climb. We made it home. Since then there have been other “pits” — a bank desk, a courtroom, a truck cab at five in the morning. Every one of them started the same way: standing at a line I did not want to cross. And crossing it anyway.
What you get by staying here
This is my promise for the year ahead. One post a month. No hype. No toxic positivity. Just honest stories and tools you can use on your next run:
- Real setbacks — and what to do the next morning.
- Injury, consistency, age, and the mind that quits before the body.
- Stories from the road — Delhi, Jeddah, Guangzhou, and twelve marathons in twelve countries.
- Faith as the undercurrent, never the lecture.
If you have ever wondered whether you belong in this sport — you do. You belonged the moment you laced up.
Your 365-day start line
If you want a start line you can see every morning, try this. In Make 365 Days Count I lay out a simple challenge: run every day for a year, minimum 5K. Not fast. Not heroic. Just every day. It sounds too much. It isn’t. It is one day, 365 times.
You don’t need to commit to the whole year today. Commit to day one. Tomorrow, commit to day two. That is how every streak — and every comeback — is built.
And if there’s another start line you’ve been avoiding — the swimming pool, maybe that first triathlon — my new book From Runner to Efficient Swimmer was written for exactly that runner.
Your action step
Tonight, put your running kit next to your bed. Tomorrow morning, before you check your phone, go out for a run or a walk — ten minutes minimum. While you move, answer one question out loud:
What start line have I been avoiding — and what is the first step across it?
Take it easy, and God bless.
— Heiko