Hi everyone,

They say life comes in waves. Lately, it’s felt more like a monsoon.

Between my mother’s hospitalizations, an unexpected trip to India, and a household-wide viral bug (with my son somehow catching two infections back-to-back), “crazy” doesn’t quite cover it. Amid all this, one thing didn’t stop: running. Even when life felt like it was spinning, lacing up my shoes became my anchor.

When everything feels unpredictable, I cling to routine. For me, running isn’t about discipline or control - it’s about the soul-deep need to feel normal again. In a season where everything was shifting, showing up at the same time and moving through the same motions was the only thing that felt solid.

Were these runs good? Honestly, no. I was sleep-deprived, emotionally drained, and jet-lagged. Some days, my “run” was little more than a glorified walk on the treadmill. But I showed up anyway, not for a personal best, but for a feeling of stability.

This morning, I hit one of those quiet decision points - the kind every runner eventually faces.

Thanks to a late-night coffee the night before, I hadn’t slept a wink. I had a long run scheduled, the weather has been miserable, and every “legitimate” excuse was lined up on a silver platter: exhaustion, stress, a treadmill promising an hour of boredom. But the golden rule with long runs is simple: you don’t skip them. Tired? Bored? Physically drained? Mentally stressed? Doesn’t matter. You walk it off.

Given the weight of the decision, I couldn’t make it myself. So I did what we all do: I asked the internet.
“Is it safe to do a long run while severely sleep-deprived?”
Every source, every AI bot, every search result said the same thing: No. Take a rest day.

And that advice makes sense - if you’re average and living in a vacuum. But the internet doesn’t know my life, and the bots don’t know my grit. They saw a tired body; I saw a spirit that needed a win. The algorithm can measure sleep, but it can’t measure the need for stability. This morning, the run wasn’t about training -it was about holding onto one piece of life that still felt steady.

So I ran.

Not to be a hero or defy science. I ran because keeping that rhythm mattered more than breaking it. And somewhere in the repetition, somewhere between the miles and the boredom, I finally felt like myself again.

This season has reminded me that some of the hardest lessons aren’t physical - they’re mental. I’m carrying these lessons forward as I look toward some big personal goals for the coming months.

For now, I’ll take the treadmill, the coffee, and any hour that lets me put one foot in front of the other.

How are you protecting your “normal” this week? Hit reply and let me know. I’d love to hear how you’re staying steady.