I finished a 10km run on Saturday. Without stopping. Not once.
That probably sounds unremarkable to a lot of people. But if you’ve been here for a while, you’ll know that a couple of years ago, this body was barely functioning. I was exhausted, inflamed, gaining weight without explanation, and genuinely unsure whether I’d ever feel capable again. Running wasn’t even on the radar.
So, Saturday. The Noosa Runaway. Yeah.
The event itself was everything this place does well: ridiculous energy, stunning scenery, people of every age and fitness level turning up and doing the thing. There’s something unexpectedly emotional about running in a straight line toward something with hundreds of other people around you.
I had one goal going in: don’t stop. No pace target. No time goal. Just keep moving until I cross the finish line.
What I didn’t expect was how comfortable it would feel. I ran conservatively from the start because I didn’t want to blow up early. I even said to Dad at one point during the run, “I think I can push harder, but I want to enjoy it,” but I decided I’d rather enjoy the process than prove something. That’s a different kind of headspace than I’ve had before.
Dad is 71, a personal trainer, and spends his time running group fitness sessions and motivational speaking for senior community groups. He ran every single step at my pace. Didn’t push. Didn’t talk when I didn’t want to talk. Just... ran alongside me the entire way. I don’t have the words for what that meant.
Pat, my husband, ran his own race ahead of us. His goal was to beat my mum’s personal best on this course (family competition runs deep). He did it.
My friend Simone Samuels ran with us too, but much faster. And my amazing gym crew was waiting at the finish line, which was, honestly, the icing on the cake.
One of the things I noticed along the way was how many people I’d assumed were much fitter than me were walking stretches of the course. I don’t say that to be superior, I say it because I’d spent the weeks leading up to this event quietly convinced I’d be the one walking. The comparison trap is real, and it’s almost always wrong.
After we crossed the line, we hit Betty’s Burgers, and I inhaled one without a single regret.
Living here still gets me. Noosa is genuinely one of those places people travel across the country and around the world to visit. The November triathlon attracts global participants. I get to live here year-round. Not lost on me.
So, what’s next?
I have another 10km event next month, possibly another in August. My training plan is evolving based on what I’ve been learning about what my body actually needs at this stage of the rebuild, and I’ll share more on that soon, including the specific changes to my training goals and strategies I'm making and why.
For now, though: 10km. No stops. Dad and my hubs by my side. Betty’s burger. That’s a very good Saturday.
This run didn't happen in isolation. It happened because I spent the last couple of years rebuilding from the ground up, one pillar at a time. If you're at the beginning of that process, Choose Yourself is where I'd tell you to start.
Were you doing something hard this week, big or small? Tell me about it below.