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.

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.

I miss my running coughing attacks in the age of coronavirus

Posted on September 17, 2020 by Bo

The hour before road races start, my body develops what I call “my running coughs.”

My nose runs, I get into a fit of coughing attacks and it feels like my body attempts to vomit all my nerves out.

My coughing reminds me of John Coffee from the movie “The Green Mile.” It’s my way of vomiting up all my fears and nerves as a green mist, leaving my body.

It’s a mixture of excitement and fear pulsating through my body; the fight or flight syndrome at its peak.

I’m usually shivering at the starting line of each race paralyzed in fear, ready to vomit my guts out, screaming these 3 questions in my head:

Will I manage the distance ahead of me? It’s too far!
Will I come last & be humiliated? WTF am I so slow?
Have I done enough training? It’s too late now!

2020 has felt that way for me. The uncertainty. The self-doubt. The fears. The anxiety. The question, “why is this happening?”

Some things are certain with every race:

Water stops
Road Marshalls
Kilometer markings

That’s it! The rest is up to me.

I have no idea until I start running whether or not I’ll feel strong, or if I’ll trip on cat eyes or need the dreaded portaloo, or even hit the wall.

That’s why I get my running coughs. It’s the unknown which is both terrifying and exhilarating at the same time.

I haven’t run a race since Bobbies in February. I miss the pre-race adrenaline. That addictive sick sensation pumping through my body.

My running coughing attacks remind me that anything can happen. Anything.

But what the hell, run anyhow!

Let lockdown anxiety run its course

Posted on August 2, 2020 by Bo

Lockdown anxiety finally broke me. It stole the last flicker of hope I was clinging on to and I’m not the only one who has just about had enough.

But I’m a denialist. I deny that COVID is out of control. I deny that my country is burning. I deny that things globally are in a real fucking mess. But they are.

I’m tired of hearing about the government. Of corruption. Of failure. I’m tired of not having answers. I’m tired of not knowing what to do or say. I’m sick of the negativity.

So my only escapism is to head to track twice a week and run laps around a dry grassy field. Alone with my thoughts and possibly the only hour I have without checking into social media.

And then this happened…

Chatting to my running coach on Saturday put things into perspective. We always start each new month discussing (negotiating) running goals. But this time was different.

Without asking, she said this:

“Bron, there is no need to push. There are no races to train for. All I want is for you to enjoy your running. Take it easy.

This isn’t about PBs. It’s not about the distance. It’s about getting out there and being consistent. Let’s get to September and then relook things.

But for now, all I want you to do is hang in there and do what you can. Don’t put anymore pressure on yourself.”

And that’s all I needed to hear…

Just hang in there. Ride this wave. Let it happen. Let it wash over me and move on.

There’s no need to put pressure on myself. We’re all struggling. There are no prizes. Even though just getting through the day deserves a medal.

And to control what I can. I can manage 3km runs and track twice a week, and that’s all that’s expected of me.

I can’t control what’s going on in my country, and no one is expecting me to. I can’t control how people react. I can’t change how others deal this pandemic. But I can run.

We’re a month away from Spring. Let’s ride this wave …