The excuses are numerous. They never end.

Your brain can come up with them endlessly—and it will. It reinforces each one with “facts,” pulling from your fear center to convince you that you’ll fail before you even try.

And somehow, it feels comforting to listen to that voice. It feels reasonable to play it safe. To follow the guaranteed path.

But do you know what finally helped me break free from that loop?

Running.

(And eventually lifting and strength training.)

Physically engaging my body was the “trick” that cut through all the excuses.

Why?

Because when I moved my body, I started to feel good. Not surface-level good. But the kind of good that felt deep—like I was connecting with a powerful, dormant dragon inside me that had been asleep on a pile of gold.

Most of my professional life involves sitting. Typing. Thinking. The most exercise I’d get during a workday was walking to the kitchen or bathroom and back.

But that’s not how we’re meant to live. We’re physical beings. And our bodies are biological marvels. Have you ever considered how incredible it is that we can walk?

Your eyes scan the ground ahead. Your brain fires signals to precise muscles in your legs, core, and spine to keep you upright. Then, as your foot lifts and lands, it sends constant feedback—Is the ground stable? Are we balanced? Should we shift?

All of this happens in milliseconds. And that’s just walking.

Now imagine running.

The speed, the impact, the feedback. It’s extraordinary.

We were designed to move. But instead, we’ve sat ourselves down at desks.

So when I started dreaming about doing something—like launching a company—I was drawing only from my brain. The same brain that scrolls social media, sees others succeeding, compares me to them, and floods my system with fear.

That’s why I needed movement.

Running reprogrammed my brain.Share

When I ran, I tapped into something primal. Something deeper than logic. My body knew how to breathe, how to climb hills, how to keep going long past when my brain told me to quit.

That voice that shows up at mile 19 saying “you can’t do this”?

I’ve learned not to believe it. I now know that voice often lies to me. Because I’ve heard a stronger one. The one that says:

You got this. You absolutely can.

That same voice shows up in life, too.

When my brain says I’m too late to start over… too late to launch something new… too late to make it work?

I’ve learned to say:

Not today.

When I strength train, it’s the same.

Each week I show up. Each week I get stronger. I lift more. Push harder. Go further.

Two years ago, these numbers would have felt like fantasy.

Now I’m hitting PRs regularly.

And I feel it—not just physically, but mentally and emotionally.

I carry that confidence into every part of my day.

Personally, professionally, spiritually.

I know I can do hard things.

So I do hard things.

Movement was the key.

Connecting to my body was the key.

Getting out of the chair and letting my heart lead was the key.