What Running a Half Marathon Taught Me About Discipline

I never claimed to be a runner. In fact, I strongly disliked running for most of my life. But sometime last summer I decided I wanted to run a half marathon, and even more than that, I convinced two of my friends to do it with me. So on August 1st I signed up for the LifeTime Miami Half Marathon, race day January 25th, and I was genuinely excited for what was ahead.

September was the honeymoon phase. I went to the running store with a friend, bought new shoes, tried every pre and post run snack and electrolyte, and built out a very satisfying spreadsheet to track my progress. It became my new favorite thing to talk about too. Who doesn't want to tell everyone about their newest hobby? Running was mine, and I was fully in it.

The mechanics came gradually. Pacing, breathing, stretching, all of it clicked over time and honestly wasn't the hard part. The hard part was Miami in the fall. Nearly 80-85 degrees by 9 AM meant I was out the door by 6:30, and I am not a morning person. Every single morning my alarm went off and everything in me wanted to roll over and go back to sleep.

By week 5, I did. The excuses came easy. I'm tired. I need sleep. One week won't hurt. I'm busy, I'm out of town, my friends are visiting. Looking back, I had been running on motivation alone, and motivation had quietly run out on me. I needed discipline, and I was starting to learn that those are not the same thing.

Between October and November I was on and off, more off than on. But at some point it clicked that I was going to disappoint myself if I didn't lock in. Not my friends, not anyone else. Myself. So I followed my plan, ran three days a week, and got up on the hard mornings. I felt my lungs get stronger, my miles get longer, and my appreciation for running grew into something I genuinely hadn't expected.

Race morning I was up at 4 AM and wanted to fall asleep in the Uber on the way there. But the night before reminded me that I was part of a community. My good friend Nia, one of my longest friends at Miami, hosted a pasta party for a group of us running the half and full marathon. Sitting around with people who had all put in the work and made it to the night before was something I needed more than I realized. That energy carried me into the morning.

By mile 8 I was hurting. My body was reminding me of every run I had skipped. But I kept going. With each mile marker, I was one step closer to my goal. My friends and family were texting me the whole way keeping my spirits up, and I held onto every message. By the final stretch I was on the verge of cramping everywhere and all I needed to do was cross the finish line. Finally, after 2 hours and 38 minutes, I did, and my friends were right there holding big signs with our names on them. The rush of relief and joy and pride I felt in that moment was something else. 

And the thing about discipline is once you find it in one place, you start to see it everywhere. I see it most in my school life. At Miami I have always chosen courses that interest me but challenge me. There are weeks where I have a hundred things on my plate and zero motivation, and every single time I get it done. Late nights, early mornings, whatever the week calls for. Not because motivation pulled me through, but because discipline did.

Running taught me something I now carry into everything. Motivation is great when it shows up, but it will not always show up. Discipline is what gets you there when it doesn't.

You are not always going to be motivated, so be disciplined.