Running Through the Mental Blocks: How I’m Learning to Show Up for Myself

I’m new to running. And if I’m being honest, I’m not one of those people who laces up with excitement and bounds out the door with a smile on my face. I get anxious before every run—tight chest, swirling thoughts, the full works.

Before I even take a step, my mind floods with negativity:“You’re too big.”“You’re too slow.”“You’re not dressed right.”“Something hurts.”“Everyone’s going to notice you struggling.”

Sound familiar?

For most of my life, I’ve been my own harshest critic. I set impossibly high standards, then beat myself up for not reaching them. And with running, it’s been no different—except that it’s also becoming my way through.

Accountability helps. I’m great when I’m meeting someone or driving a friend to the race. If people are there to cheer, I’ll show up strong. But this past weekend was different.

My fiancé was out of the country. I had no one coming with me, no one waiting at the finish line. To make matters worse, I was nursing a knee injury that gave me every reason to stay home. And still—I went.

Not because I had to. Not because anyone was counting on me.Because I decided to count on myself.

I practiced positive self-talk the whole way there. I told myself that discomfort isn’t a stop sign—it’s a signal that something important is happening. I reminded myself that doing hard things builds character, and being uncomfortable is where growth lives.

And you know what? I did it. I ran. I finished. I cried.

Tears of joy. Of pride. Of relief. I showed up for me—and in doing so, I found a version of myself I’ve missed lately. Someone strong. Resilient. Capable.

And strangely? My knee felt better after. Almost like my body needed proof that I could still trust it—and it delivered.

What I’ve learned is this: Running isn’t about speed or looking the part or having the perfect conditions. It’s about choosing to move forward, even when your mind is begging you not to. It’s about reclaiming belief in yourself, one step at a time.

So if you’re battling your own inner critic, know this: You’re not alone. And the finish line isn’t just the end of the race—it’s the beginning of realizing what you’re truly capable of.

The look of pure joy - joy that it was over, and newfound joy in my breakthrough!

LOVE THE MEDALS!! They are a must for this baby runner!!