About Bo

Dog lover. Runner. Although very slowly. Keeping up with the stresses of running and life...

ChatGPT cannot coach, encourage or run alongside me to my Blue Number goal

Posted on February 6, 2025 by Bo

👉 Steal this ChatGPT prompt: Act with confidence and speak boldly about your 2025 goal to prove how successful you will be this year.

I made that up, of course 🤦🏻‍♀️

Because no matter what prompt I use, ChatGPT and other AI tools cannot help me achieve one of my biggest goals this year.

It’s a goal that keeps me awake at night.
It’s a goal that looks so easy for some.
It’s a goal that felt so far away two years ago when I had both knees operated on and a broken foot.

My goal is this: In 59 days, I’m running my 10th Two Oceans half marathon. *gulp*

There, I said it out loud, publicly. 🫣

And deep down I know that the only thing that will get me to that Blue Number Club (the coveted permanent number awarded after 10 races) isn’t just my training, it’s my focus on a few core things, starting with the incredible people who are part of this journey:

🏃🏻‍♀️ my running Coach, Michelle Mee. Again, I cannot overemphasize the importance of working with a coach in all aspects of your life.

🏃🏻‍♀️ my running tribe and everyone who trains with me, often sacrificing their training because they slow down to run at my pace.

🏃🏻‍♀️ my friends, especially the non-running ones who think the distance I’m running is the same as Comrades (21km vs. 90km) Keep thinking that!

🏃🏻‍♀️ my family who understand the harder challenges an auto-immune disease has had on my body and the exhaustion and pain that I live with.

In a world dominated by AI and automation, the goals that matter most – our health, mental well-being, connection, and belonging – are all built on human relationships. We must never forget that!

That’s why this race isn’t just about running 21km; it’s about showing up for myself and for the people who’ve supported me.

In 59 days, I’ll cross that finish line not alone, but with the strength and encouragement of everyone who’s been part of this decade-long journey.

I am the runner I am, not because of my pace or medals, but because of my consistency, grit and most importantly, who I surround myself with, when I’m out on the track and on the tar.

Ps: it’s not just in running or personal goals – this applies to the workplace too. Don’t let the rise of automation and AI make you forget the power of people in your life.

There’s one word runners need to stop using in 2025

Posted on December 11, 2024 by Bo

The one word we need to stop using is “just”.

I kept hearing it from a group of phenomenal women who were running a 5km race with me recently.

There was a 10km race, but all of us were (just) doing the half. Just the 5km. Nothing serious.

“I’m just running the 5km.” Just. Huh?

It softens the effort. Makes it less of a big deal. Diminishes the impact. Signals uncertainty.

And it’s way more common for women to slip this word in our narrative because we don’t want to appear forceful or assertive.

As runners, we’re always comparing ourselves to others. It’s one of the most damaging aspects of the sport.

▪️I’m just running the 10km. It’s a fun run.

▪️I’m just running the half. I’m not running marathons this year.

▪️I’m just doing a walk/run.

▪️I’m going to say it’s just a slow run on Strava so people don’t actually think I’m this slow.

It implies that a shorter distance or slower pace carries less weight. Nonsense!

The word screams limitation, fear and imposter syndrome. It signals that perhaps we’re not good enough.

I feel this to my core because I’m so guilty of using just when I speak about my running.

And for me, this is the worst part: It makes other runners who hear this feel as if their efforts aren’t as important either.

Stop using it in 2025.

How you speak about yourself matters more than you realise! How you speak about runs and running and races can either build or break someone down.

So if you hear another runner saying, “They’re just running X distance”, please stop them and remind them that it’s not just that. It’s amazing.

And encourage them to run it with all their heart and enjoy the run because isn’t that why we really do it?

By the way, I ran a seasons best (SB) in my 5km with this bunch of women and felt amazing the rest of the day.

Because nothing we do is just anything. My SB gets me into a headspace ready to tackle my training for next year’s races. You have no idea how important this is for me. It wasn’t JUST any old 5km to me.

Our goals are different. It’s never just a run but part of something bigger, and it’s all worth celebrating.

📸 credit: Jenny Smith & Michelle Coach Mee

We are all hiding: From corporate masks to grey hair truths

Posted on October 14, 2024 by Bo

My hair started going grey at 27. For over 20 years, I’ve been tinting it—until now. In September, I decided to stop.

When I quit my corporate job in 2018, it took over a year to figure out who I really was. It wasn’t just my grey hair I was hiding – it was me. As a newbie entrepreneur, I defaulted to showing up on social media by using filters to soften my wrinkles and smooth out my skin to appear younger.

In corporate, we hide behind the masks of professionalism. We pretend we have it all together because we have to. It’s part of the game. I did it for years. And on Instagram, it’s all about the highlights reel… like must look perfect.

But leaving corporate was my first step toward showing up as my true self, though it took a while to stop playing that role. Stopping the tint is another step in that journey.

Over the years, I’ve tried every shade – blonde, brunette, and even almost black during COVID. But as I’ve gotten older, hiding my greys has gotten more difficult to do. Every four weeks, I’d go to the salon, but after 10 days, that white band would start creeping back.

It felt like any sign of aging or imperfection had to be hidden in the corporate world, and then on social media.

But now I’m tired. I’m tired of pretending.

If my coaching business encourages people to show up, be vulnerable, and be themselves, it starts with me.

They call it “grey blending,” but for me, it’s more about transitioning. I transitioned out of corporate and into entrepreneurship and it didn’t happen overnight. It’s been a journey of learning, shedding old layers, and figuring out what works for me. Going lighter didn’t work for me, so I’m trying the darker route of matching the peppers in my hair to a demi-colour wash as the hair grows out.

Corporate made me hard, self-preserving. Social media filters appear fake and inauthentic. Tinting does the same. So many people have commented that the grey hairs actually soften my face.

And that I’m brave….

Ironically, I feel freer. I can breathe again. But I’m not “embracing” my greys yet. To embrace means welcoming something fully, and I’m not there.

I prefer the word recognize.

I choose to recognize that I’m getting older—I’ll be 50 next year. I recognize that it’s not just my hair that’s changing. It’s my face, my body, my mind.

As women, we are experts at hiding. We hide our emotions, fears, and insecurities. And in doing so, we lose pieces of ourselves.

We tint our hair, cover our wrinkles, soften our stories, all to fit into the boxes society creates for us. But hiding creates distance. It builds walls between who we are and who we think we need to be.

When I left corporate, I didn’t know who I really was. That’s what hiding does—it makes you forget.

And if we are to change the toxic culture of social media, it starts with social media coaches, like myself, showing up as me.

So, stopping the tinting is just the beginning for me as I head into my 50s, the youth of old age, as they say. I really like this saying!

It’s been hard. I’ve struggled with seeing the silver streaks, with trying to accept it.

I’m not fully embracing it yet, but I’ve taken the first step. And that’s often the hardest part of any change.

Breaking down to heal

Posted on July 7, 2024 by Bo

I can’t remember why I stopped blogging…

It wasn’t because of the “busyness” of life. If you scroll through my social media feeds, you’ll see that I had lots of time for content creation.

But sharing on Instagram doesn’t have the same sense of intimacy as a blog post. My blog is mine. I don’t share the space with others and I’m not competing with algorithm updates. My stories belong to me.

My last blog entry was 4 years ago, just as the world was changing post COVID. I think in a way, we’re all still dealing with some parts of decisions that we made during that time.

I’m still running.

But if I thought I’d learnt all the lessons that running could ever teach me, I was mistaken.

I had both knees operated on during 2022 and couldn’t walk, nevermind run. It exposed just how big a role running played in my life.

When I couldn’t run, I saw less of KK. Even though we don’t run together, it dominates our lives.

When I couldn’t run, there were no more weekly track sessions or running friends to bond with. I felt lonely.

When I didn’t run, my mental health suffered. I felt weak. And unfit. And old.

And then I broke my foot and my 8th Two Oceans half marathon was put on hold.

That’s when not being able to run taught me my biggest lesson of all.

I started my blog in 2010 when I missed the 3 hour cutoff at my 2nd Two Oceans half marathon. In those days, my running speed was all that mattered. My runs focused on finishing my 21km races in under 3 hours!

I became obsessed with my pace and any race run at slower than 8mins per km felt like a failure to me.

The more I ran, the more I hated it. I changed coaches twice, thinking that the training would make a difference. I was disappointed in myself and didn’t even notice the kilometers clocking up.

But I had to break both knees and a foot to realise how much it hurt when my “slow” running was taken away from me.