Running is teaching me How to stay Accountable
I used to think that accountability was something that mattered only when other people were around.
You know, like showing up on time for work, following through on plans with friends that I committed to long before I realised I might want to change my mind, or keeping promises I’ve made to someone else.
But, over the two (almost three) years that I’ve been running, the discipline has forced me to look at accountability in a different light — one where it’s just me, my thoughts on the road, and the promises I’ve made to myself.
And man… what a hard contract to uphold!
When I first started running in September 2021, it was about everything but accountability. It was about stress relief, getting out of my own head, and (perhaps) trying to get in shape a little.
Let’s be honest, after moving countries with my husband in the midst of the Covid chaos, the last thing on my mind was long-term goals or deep, personal growth; I simply wanted to outrun my own thoughts for a while.
To my own surprise though, I kept at it, and the more I run, the more I realise that running is quietly teaching me some pretty profound lessons about how to stay accountable — in fitness, and in life.
Accountability vs. Comfort
Let’s start with the ugly truth. I used to hate waking up at 5 AM and after two years of trying, I still don’t love it most days and is certainly not something that I have mastered yet.
It makes me skeptical of people who claim they love waking up before the crack of dawn. You know, the type who practically bounce out of bed, talking about how the early hours of the morning are their “favourite part of the day” as if the rest of us don’t still have pillow creases on our faces at that hour.
But, working a normal 9-to-5 leaves me with little time for running, and the idea of getting in a workout after a long day at the office has never really appealed to me, even though I still do it sometimes.
So, it goes without saying that it wasn’t any one particular morning that made all the difference in my life and is more of an ongoing loop of grumpiness, trial and error, and sheer willpower just to drag myself out of bed most mornings.
Over time, something is slowly starting to shift for me though. After weeks and months of “sort of” sticking to a routine, I am beginning to realise how much better I feel when I get my run in first thing in the morning.
On the days that I do manage to get my run out of the way early, the rest of my day feels more manageable and less cluttered with that lingering feeling of “I still need to get my run in,” sets the tone for the day and creates a space for myself to think, be creative and give my mind one less thing to worry about.
Waking up early has been teaching me that accountability doesn’t require perfection. The process merely asks that you keep trying, keep showing up, and keep adjusting until you find what works best for you.
The Race(s) That Taught Me to Own My Excuses
It wasn’t the local 10K that taught me to own my excuses.
The real lessons came after something a bit tougher — two Did Not Finish (DNF) marathons between November 2023 and May 2024.
Those DNFs hit harder than I ever could’ve imagined since they weren’t just physical defeats; they were moments that laid bare the excuses I had been quietly carrying with me, forcing me to face the reasons I‘m not getting across those finish lines.
My first DNF stands out more vividly than I’d like to admit. At around the 30km mark, I fell — literally.
Looking back, it wasn’t as a dramatic collapse as I thought it was at the time, but overwhelming enough to stop me in my tracks, physically and mentally.
I remember hitting the ground. While my body didn’t feel that exhausted, my spirit was deflated, having fallen straight on my chin and the discomfort screaming louder than my legs… In that moment, every step I had taken to get to that point made it feel impossible to continue.
And with that, the excuses came flooding in: “It’s too far,” “I think I’ve trained hard enough,” “This just isn’t my day,” I’d tell people and myself. Needless to say, those excuses were enough to convince me to stop. I walked off the course, defeated and with my tail between my legs.
Shortly afterward, I took some time to rationalise it and hired myself a coach. I told myself that the fall was the main reason I didn’t finish, and had I been training under some guidance, things would’ve gone differently.
But deep down, I knew the truth.
The fall wasn’t the only reason I stopped. Over the last couple of years, I have allowed discomfort, pain, and my own self-doubt take over my goals, with this incident merely cementing that reality for me. Literally.
A few months later and a bit of training with my (then) new coach under my belt, I signed up for another marathon, convinced it would be different on my second try. Alas, I DNF’ed again and this time, there was no fall to blame, no singular moment of physical defeat except for some digestive issues and cramps along the way that I made worse in my head than it really was.
I had simply run out of the mental strength to keep going and along with that, the excuses felt heavier than ever: “Maybe marathon running just isn’t for me,” “I’ll never make it to the finish line.”
While I could easily hide behind things like lack of nutrition knowledge, the hotter than usual weather, or any other variable, I realise; It is ME.
I hadn’t been honest with myself about what it really takes to push through the discomfort, both physically and mentally.
Running, especially marathons, doesn’t let you off the hook easily. It forces you to face yourself, your weaknesses, your limitations, and, most importantly, the excuses you lean on.
Now, as I prepare for my third attempt at the Larnaka Marathon this November, I’ve had to confront my truth: my biggest obstacle hasn’t been the physical distance; —
It’s been the mental blocks I’ve allowed to grow, the excuses I rely on when things get tough!
Accountability, I’ve learned, isn’t just about showing up on race day. It’s about owning the entire process, the good and the bad, the wins and the failures. It’s about being honest with myself when I fall short, and not sugarcoating it with convenient reasons that don’t hold up.
The fall, combined with two DNFs have become pivotal moments in my journey as a runner, forcing me to reflect on how I handle adversity, not just in running, but in life, because it’s easy to justify why things don’t go our way, to tell ourselves that external factors are to blame. Yet, at some point, we have to take ownership.
I am realising that no one is going to cross the finish line for me. No one will care if I finish slower than expected as much as I do, or if I don’t finish at all. The only person I’m really accountable to is myself, and that realisation has been both empowering and humbling.
Having said that, with the training block becoming increasingly long over the scorching hot Cyprus summers, I’ve started to notice the excuses creeping in during training as well.
So — as I continue to train for Larnaka, I’m not just running to finish the marathon.
I’m running to prove to myself that I can face my own excuses head-on and push beyond them, and while I can’t guarantee what will happen come race day, I know I’ll be ready to face whatever comes my way without excuses, without rationalisations. Just me, fully owning the journey and trusting the process.
The “Why” That Keeps Me Going
Of all the things I have just mentioned, here’s the biggest thing running is teaching me about accountability: You’ve got to have a “why” that’s bigger than the temporary discomfort, the missed PRs, or the days when you just don’t feel like it.
For me, my “why” has changed over time. At first, the thought of ‘getting into shape’ seemed appealing, then; compulsive me decided to train for races, but now, it’s about something deeper, more meaningful.
Running has become this space where I can clear my head, get some perspective, and give me a sense of control of something when life feels chaotic. It’s a way for me to show up for myself, even when no one else is watching. And that “why” has become the foundation of my accountability.
If I can continue to remind myself why I’m doing this, it’s easier to push through the tough days or the bad runs. As cliché as it sounds, every time I don’t feel like running but do it anyway, I remember how good it feels to take care of my body and my mind.
Sweeter still, when I do happen to hit a great run — the kind where everything clicks and I feel like I’m flying — it’s not just a victory for that day…
It’s the payoff for all the mornings I dragged myself out of bed, for all the times I kept going when I could’ve easily given up.
The Ripple Effect: Accountability Beyond Running
The wild thing about all this is that the accountability I’ve built through running is bleeding into other parts of my life and I’d like to think that it’s making me more reliable, not just to myself but to others.
I’m better at keeping commitments to myself, not just because I “have to,” but because I’ve learned how much it matters to follow through.
Whether it’s showing up for a friend or completing a project at work, the discipline I’ve developed through running has had a ripple effect on my journey.
*[On that note, it’s probably a good time to give a major shoutout to my coach, Amie, for keeping me accountable too. Without her support, things would have looked a lot different today]
At the end of the day, staying accountable is about more than just ticking boxes or hitting goals.
It’s about living in a way that aligns with the promises you make to yourself and running has become the most honest reflection of that for me — there’s no room for BS when you’re out there, just you and the road, the one thing that made me fall in love with running in the first place.
If any part of my journey resonates with you, stick around. Hopefully, I’ll be sharing more about what I’m learning along the way; through the highs, the lows, and everything in between.
