The journey of a training block

July 29, 2026

I wrote a previous version of this essay for an application for a spot in a marathon project with a running company. I didn’t get a spot, but I liked my essay, so I decided to spruce it up a bit and share it here. I don’t remember the exact prompt, but it was something along the lines of “What excites you most about chasing a personal best?”

As cliche as it may be, what excites me most about chasing a personal best is the journey. I simply love running. While I am a competitive person who loves toeing the line and racing, I don’t think that is enough to chase your best. I believe that in order to race well, you must love the training: It’s the heart and soul of a marathon build. (It’s even in the name – “training” block, not “racing” block.)

Of course, loving training doesn’t mean I love every run. Not every long run or workout will go swimmingly, and there will be days getting out the door is challenging. But that doesn’t mean I don’t still love it. We’ve all been upset at a partner, friend, or family member from time to time, but we still love them through it. It’s the same with the marathon and journey to the start line.

I’ll admit I didn’t always feel this way. For years of high school, college, and even post-college running and racing, I’d stress about workouts, thinking and overthinking about how hard they would be for days or even weeks before them. I’d get through them knowing a race was around the corner, and then it would be fun. If the workout or race went poorly, though, I’d feel down for hours to days. With the marathon, this is particularly risky; there’s not nearly as many chances for the fun times in the race as there are in high school track seasons.

One day midworkout in a marathon block, I just stopped running. I was hyperventilating (not new, my classic stressed-out-in-a-workout reaction in fact), panicking about how slow I felt. I decided I was over it. Not over running, but over the stress around it. I had always known that I am not defined by my times and that my value didn’t come from my running, but for some reason the sentiment had not stuck with me until this time. I realized that if I wanted to continue to pursue my goals — which I did want to do — that I needed to have fun the whole time. 

Slowly, I tried to internalize this. I started running workouts based on effort, and soon after learned from a friend that that’s actually a thing: RPE (Rate of Perceived Exertion) training. I began to realize that running and training like this was fun. I haven’t hyperventilated since.

As this internal change was happening, I also grew my running community. I became involved with a local racing team, and I enjoyed sharing runs with friends and soon-to-be-friends who also loved the sport. I started looking forward to long runs and hard workouts rather than dreaded them. Lo and behold, my times improved.

Now, I truly love the journey of training. I see a personal best as more than just a time. It represents personal growth and building confidence, joy, and dare I say even some speed.