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

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.

What gap is left in your life when something or someone is removed?

Spending time at home made me yearn for the track sessions, the friendships, the feeling of achievement when I crossed that finish line.

I wasn’t missing the competitiveness or PBs at all. That wasn’t important. I was missing me.

Bron, the slow runner. Bron, the plain and simple average runner. Oh how I missed how running made me feel.

Strong. Fit. Capable.

To feel exhausted and pleasure at the same time.

To experience good and bad days and to keep going.

When you focus on the wrong things, it’s easy to get distracted. It feels like that with my blog.

I had forgotten why I had started blogging in the first place.

I started blogging to share the lessons that running teaches me about life.

I watch newbie runners and see their obsession with PBs and pace. I smile.

I watch experienced runners get disappointed with their performances. It happens.

Everyone is in a different season when it comes to running. Some are in seasons of abundance.

Others are stuck disappointed and disillusioned.

It’s taken a few years to dust off my blog and that’s okay. There’s no set time when you’re expected to work through your own personal seasons.

But hopefully when you get through them you gain clarity and can move on.

I know I’m ready to.

Journaling and running, for no one else but myself.

Yours in running, walking and loving all the rewards it brings me.

Bron xxx

Dear God, when Corona is all over, I promise never to hate running again

Posted on April 14, 2020 by Bo

Yeah, yeah. Famous last words. When I was growing up, I remember making a similar promise to God.

My mom tripped over a tree stump in the garden and dislocated her elbow. Crying in absolute agony, my Dad rushed her to the hospital to have it reset.

Seeing my mom writhing in pain was frightening. The hours waiting for her to return from the hospital dragged on and as night fell, I remember lying in the dark in my bed praying.

I prayed so hard. I promised to stop being a brat of a teenager. I promised to never lie again. I made a pact with God that if He took my mom’s pain away and brought her back home, I’d do whatever it took to be the perfect daughter. (Well, let’s just say I did my best).

I miss running. I miss the races. I miss track. I miss my running coach and all the other runners. I miss the freedom of heading out the door and choosing from a variety of running routes to run around my home.

I feel like that awkward teenage girl, pleading with God to heal the world so that I can go run.

Because I only realise now that when it’s taken away from me, that I really don’t hate running, I love it.

So God, this is my promise.

What my coaches taught me about running

Posted on August 30, 2019 by Bo

I’ll be quite honest with you. When my CMIYC running partner (who I had only met 5 mins before the run) plugged her earphones in her ears into the 2nd kilometre of our 5km run, I was quite relieved. I was pushing myself so hard that I had started to grunt and pant like a bear and hoped her music would drown it out. I didn’t feel like chit chat.

Something else was on my mind. I had somehow managed to run the Randburg Harriers time trial route the entire way without stopping to walk once the week before. I was aiming to do it again but was already negotiating with myself that if I stopped to walk, it was okay. I mean, I had run the 10km Vitality Series road race on Sunday at Wanderers so was entitled to some rest time, right?

As we slipped into a rhythm, I started to question why the run felt so easy. Not once did I feel the need to stop or slow down. What had made the difference to previous runs? It’s then that the lessons from my previous running coaches made sense…

Coach Dave would repeat the same thing over and over: Consistency and discipline. Just go out and run, he’d say. Even if it’s 20 minutes. Do it. And yes, I have been doing that. Working from home has made it easier to close my laptop and run from home instead of sitting in traffic. The runs have been consistent and I’ve been kinder to myself for accepting that even a 3km run is still a run.

Track session with Coach Dave and his Running Junkies 2013. Best running years of my life hanging out with this bunch of amazing friends twice a week.

Coach Neville made the statement, “You can’t be training for a 21km PB until you’ve run your best 5km and 10km times. Start there.” His running programme started me out on 4km runs which is what I’ve mapped out around home. My fastest road race times have been while training with Neville.

So yes, I’ve focussed more on the shorter distances: between 4 – 7km runs during the week, running regularly, and only running the 10km races on weekends. Mentally, it’s felt a whole lot easier to commit to and I’ve bravely stepped it up along the way knowing that 10kms is pretty manageable.

Both coaches taught me valuable lessons and I was pretty thrilled when my Strava showed that I was trending faster. That’s always a good sign. I’ve also found another CMIYC group where the girls run closer to my pace – meaning I can still see most of them in front of me along the route.

As a runner, as in life, it’s not about giving up. It’s about finding what works for you and sticking to it. Only then will you see the results…