It Only Took 3 Weeks to Rewrite 25 Years of Belief

Back in March, on my birthday, I decided this was the year I would finally run 3 miles without stopping. For the last decade or so, I’ve been active—moving my body most days in ways that felt challenging. But running? Running was always something I told myself I couldn’t do. That story started early, probably in middle school. After more than 25 years of believing running was inaccessible to me, I decided to change that narrative.

I started with 1 mile. I had only ever run a mile without stopping once in my life. The first time I tried this year, it took me three days to finally hit that milestone. I kept showing up, but almost every run after that ended with me walking after the mile mark. I stayed in that place for months, until I made an important distinction: I stopped treating running as a dream and started treating it as a goal.

If I’ve learned anything over the years, it’s that our words matter. Dreams inspire us, but they can also stay at arm’s length—safe, untouchable, never something we can really fail at. A goal is different. A goal gets close. It requires a plan, daily effort, and the willingness to work through failures until you get there. The only real way to fail at a goal is to give up.

So I turned “being a runner” into a goal and made a plan. With advice from a friend, I started a 5k training program through the Peloton app. It forced me to run slower and shorter than I thought I should, but it gave me structure, coaching, and encouragement. More importantly, it helped me rewrite my story: from struggle and excuses to confidence and consistency.

Three weeks into the program, at 37 years old, I ran 3 miles without stopping for the first time in my life. After decades of believing I “couldn’t,” it only took three weeks of commitment to prove myself wrong. Physically, I’m not much different than I was before, but mentally, everything shifted.

I ran for me—and for the little girl I used to be. The one who felt left behind in sports, who carried an inhaler as proof that running was “too hard,” who wanted so badly to feel free and strong enough to keep up. I ran to shatter her excuses. Because this was never really about running. It was about believing in myself.

I share this not just because I’m proud, but because I know how heavy the words “I can’t” can feel. We all carry them—I can’t do that. I’m not good at this. That’s not for me. But those aren’t truths. They’re stories we repeat until they become limits.

So today, I encourage you: pick one dream and turn it into a goal. Make it real. Maybe it’ll take weeks, maybe months, maybe years. But I promise—proving to yourself that you are capable will be worth every step.