From Perfectionism to Progress: How Running Helped Me Rewrite the Rules

A few months ago, I overcame a quiet but stubborn form of perfectionism: I started running again. 🏃‍♀️

After 10 years, I returned to my personal best — running 3K.
That might not sound like much, but for me… it’s huge.

My whole life, I’ve wrestled with a voice in my head that says:

“If you can’t do it perfectly, maybe don’t do it at all.”

And for the longest time, I listened.

I’d skip skiing with coworkers or decline volleyball games — not because I didn’t want to, but because I knew I wouldn’t be great at it. And that made it hard to show up at all. (Though I’d jump at the chance to join an art class or go-kart racing — things I was naturally good at.)

Then came running.

As a kid, I was a gazelle. Light on my feet. I used to fly. I was the fastest girl in my grade when I was 8 and 9, and I loved it.

But by high school? I remember running a 15-minute mile. I couldn’t keep up.

Eventually, I found out I was anemic. My body wasn’t getting the oxygen it needed. My muscles would literally atrophy when I exerted myself. One time, I passed out after a 20-minute flat bike ride. It was terrifying.

That issue has been under control for years. But I still didn’t run.

I told myself it was too hard.
I told myself it wasn’t for me.
I told myself I might get hurt.

As I challenge my own limiting beliefs, I realized it was time to raise my game — right here.

While home on summer vacation, I asked my kids if they wanted to go for a run. Just 20–30 minutes. Nothing too serious.

They said yes.
And I ran.
And I didn’t stop.

And honestly? It’s been easier than I thought because I’m not chasing perfection.

I’m setting intention.

Why this time is different

I didn’t make a rigid goal like "run 3K twice a week at 7:30am." That would’ve felt like punishment. Instead, I got clear on why I wanted this:

I want to be a person who is full of vitality.

I imagine myself 20 years from now feeling strong, healthy, full of breath. I see the ripple effect of starting now as I enter my 50s.

My intention keeps me kind to myself. It’s focused on progress and consistency, not performance.

Any time I lace up and go out there, I’m being a runner. It’s undeniable. And I take a photo at the end of each run to remind myself of that.

What this has to do with your career

As a Career and Executive Coach, I see this pattern in every client journey. People set goals that are so tightly defined, so binary, they leave no room for feeling human or feeling joy.

If you're struggling to start something because you fear doing it "wrong,” consider this:

What if the real win isn't perfect execution… but showing up in alignment?

Intentions change everything. They reconnect you to who you want to become. And once you're clear on that, action gets a whole lot easier.