Why External Validation Is Stealing My Joy For Running

Waiting for external validation that might never come, is exhausting. Quite pointless too, if you ask me.

It’s like chasing your own tail, except there’s no satisfaction, just dizziness.

Instead, it becomes a never-ending loop of ‘hoping someone notices my dedication, the 5 AM runs that are dreadful most days, the sweat-soaked proof that I’m serious about this and ought to be considered a real runner.

But in the end, there’s the sinking realisation that these days, no one actually cares.

Honestly, I get trapped here more often than I’d like to admit.

You too?

The Running Buddy Revelation

A couple of months ago, Robin — my running buddy — decided to step things up with me.

If you have a running buddy you might know how it goes; , week after week, we obsess over the runs, talking about our pace, the soreness in our legs, whether our shoes sucked or not.

We even debate the wrath of rain on our running gear. Typical ‘run talk’ and stuff, right?

After a couple of back and forth conversations with Robin, I started to notice something.

While we both appreciate and understand the benefits of running, our approach couldn’t be more different. So different, I ended up dragging my husband into hour-long debates about it.

Why the big deal, you ask? Well, I had an epiphany.

A penny-drop moment

The one day, it hit me like a ton of bricks.

When I lace up my running shoes and head out the door — or even when I’m planning something as mundane as a birthday party — I secretly, desperately, want someone to take note. I crave a witness.

Because, if no one sees me shave five seconds off my pace, does it even count?And that’s the catch — external validation.

It’s the gnawing need for someone else to acknowledge my grit, my hard work, my little compounding improvement just so that it could feel more real.

But Robin? He’s not wired this way at all. Robin can run the same pace, week in, week out, and not care if anyone notices. He doesn’t need someone clapping for him on the sidelines or the medals to hang around his neck to show for it. It comes from within.

He runs for the process. For the rhythm, for the simple act of getting better with motivations that are intrinsic, pure, and untethered by outside opinions.

An Ironic Discovery: Zone 2 Running

When I just met Robin, I briefly mentioned to him the research behind Zone 2 running, a topic I stumbled upon when I was looking for ways to improve my endurance without feeling like I’m constantly sprinting for approval.

Zone 2 is where the magic happens — at least, that’s what I told him.

It’s the sweet of running. Slow. Steady. Deliberate.

Not the Instagram-worthy, all-out grind that leaves you breathless and battered, no. The sustainable, efficient way to build strength without burning out.

The irony here? I’m the one who introduced Robin to this technique, yet he’s the one who is fully embracing it.

While I preach to everyone about the virtues of running in this controlled, mindful way, here I am still chasing the rush of recognition. Struggling to leg go of the need for validation. Robin, on the other hand, just runs.

No pressure. No audience. Just running.

I wish I could be more zen like Robin and embody the philosophy I so easily share with others.

Seeing the bigger picture

Funny enough, running is supposed to be my thing. It’s the one thing that saved me from running away — from myself.

But lately, I’ve been doing it for all the wrong reason. Chasing validation like a dog after a bone, trying to prove to myself and the world that I’m doing something meaningful.

“Why? Why is this validation so important?”, I ask myself.

The problem with validation is that it shifts the focus from the simple joy of the act itself to the need of acknowledgement.

You lose the purity of what you love — in my case, running — because you’re constantly searching for someone’s confirmation that you’re doing it well enough.

So here’s what I’ve come to realise.

I need to redefine what success means for me, whether I’m running or doing anything else. It can’t be about who notices or who claps the loudest. It has to be about my personal journey, my progress, my joy.

Zone 2 is not just a running strategy; it’s a mindset. It’s about enjoying the ride, not sprinting for applause.

To learn how to appreciate the quiet moments when no one is watching, and slowly, steadily, break the validation cycle.

Fixing things

If you’re anything like me and find yourself losing joy because you’re too focused on how others perceive your efforts, try this:

1. Set personal goals: Instead of relying on external metrics like Strava Kudos or Instagram like, set goals that only you can measure. For running, this could be “feeling less winded after each run” or “simply getting out and enjoying each mile.” For other aspects of life, focus on things that bring internal satisfaction.

2. Find joy in solitude: Engage in activities that you enjoy, especially when no one’s looking. For me, this has been pen-drawings.
   While I still need to catch myself each timeI want to share my art with the world — the more I draw the more I learn (and appreciate) that not every moment needs an audience.

3. Pause and reflect: After each significant moment or task, take time to reflect on how you feel about it, without the filter of outside opinions. Did it make you happy? Did you grow from it? This introspection helps reclaim the joy in your pursuits. Easier said than done, I know.

So here I am, peeling back the layers, trying to live more with the Zone 2 mindset I first shared with Robin and rediscovering why I fell in love with running in the first place.

Because at the end of the day, running should be about just that, running.