Let’s get one thing straight: keto isn’t some miracle diet or magic bullet—it’s just a tool.

A strong one, sure. But like any tool, it works best when used for the right job, at the right time, by the right person.

Some runners thrive on it for years. Others? Not so much.

I’ve seen both sides firsthand through coaching. I’ve worked with runners who used keto to drop serious weight, rebuild their aerobic base, and reclaim control of their energy. Then, when they needed that extra kick—say, during race season—they shifted to targeted or cyclical keto. That meant staying low-carb most of the time, but bringing in carbs when it mattered—before races or after brutal training days.

That’s what metabolic flexibility looks like: your body learns to burn fat efficiently but can still tap into carbs when needed.

I fall into this camp myself. I stay low-carb most of the time because I love the mental clarity, the even energy, and honestly, staying lean. But if I’m about to hammer a long run or toe the line for a race, I’m not afraid to throw down some rice or pop a gel. My body bounces back into ketosis pretty fast.

That’s the payoff—you’re no longer chained to carbs.

But here’s the honest truth: strict keto can blunt top-end speed.

Sprint work, high-intensity intervals, and all-out efforts rely heavily on glycogen, not fat.

As one runner said on Reddit (and I couldn’t agree more): “Keto hurts performance at faster speeds, but so does carrying extra weight.”

Trade-offs, always

You’ve gotta weigh it out. If your main goal is to race fast 5Ks or crush the track, you might perform better with more carbs. But if you’re targeting long endurance events or want to drop excess fat without feeling like a zombie, keto can be a smart play.

I’ve also seen big genetic differences—some runners adapt to fat like a machine. Others struggle, no matter how clean their keto game is.

And if keto doesn’t work for you? That’s fine. It doesn’t mean you failed.

Some folks just don’t feel great on it, even after the “keto flu” passes. Others can’t stand life without bread—and I get it.

Nutrition isn’t just about macros

It’s about quality of life, consistency, and your relationship with food.

If cutting carbs makes you miserable or kills your social life, then maybe a moderate low-carb approach is the better path.

I’ve coached clients through both.

One guy started strict keto, dropped weight, but hit a wall during intervals. We pivoted to a whole-food, moderate-carb plan—enough fuel for training, without the rollercoaster crashes.

Another client stayed full keto and crushed their ultra. The difference? Context. Needs. Goals.

Metabolic flexibility is what I’m after with most athletes.

I want your body to be fluent in both languages—fat and carbs.

Going full keto for a few months can train your body to burn fat like a pro. Even if you bring carbs back later, you’ll probably hold onto that fat-burning skill.

That’s gold in long races when you’re trying to avoid bonking.

Just know that the longer you stay in ketosis, the more “sensitive” your body may get to carbs. Some folks report that after months of keto, reintroducing carbs hits them harder—higher blood sugar spikes, a foggy brain, that kind of thing.

Not dangerous, just something to be aware of.

Personally, I like throwing in a higher-carb day every now and then—maybe once a week, or during a heavy mileage phase.

It’s part mental (feels like a relief), part physiological (keeps my body responsive to carbs), and part social (yes, I still want to enjoy a pizza night once in a while without guilt).

Here’s what I always tell clients:

Keto isn’t a lifestyle you have to commit to forever

It’s a tool.

Use it for fat loss, energy balance, metabolic control, or base building. Then switch tools when needed.

If you’ve got a race coming up, you might want to do a proper carb-load and fill up that glycogen tank.

If you’re vegetarian or have metabolic issues that make high fat tricky, maybe keto’s not your jam. And that’s totally okay.

As a coach, I’ll never push keto as the only answer. But I’ll say this: trying it taught me a lot.

I realized I didn’t need constant sugar bombs to train or function. I learned what it feels like to run on fat—steady, clear, unshakable. I also learned that carbs are still a damn powerful tool when used right.

Keto made me a better athlete and a more balanced coach

Not because it’s magic. But because it forced me to understand fuel—not just food.

What about you?
Have you ever experimented with keto? Did it work for your running, or did it flop?

Let’s talk about what fuel mix actually helps you feel and run your best.

One of the things I love most about jump rope?

It never gets boring. There’s always a new trick to mess around with—something fresh to challenge your coordination, your rhythm, or just your patience.

Below is a list of 22 advanced jump rope moves I’ve played with over the years. Some of them I’ve nailed. Others? Still working on ’em—and I’ve got the shin bruises to prove it.

You don’t need to master all of them. Just pick a few to mix into your workouts. They’ll push different muscles, fire up your brain, and keep you sharp.

Let’s break them down. But quick warning: You’re gonna mess up. That’s part of the deal. Stick with it, and the payoff’s worth it.

1. Boxer Skip

This one’s non-negotiable if you want to build endurance. Instead of hopping with both feet, you shift side to side—lightly tapping one foot while the other carries the weight. Think of it like jogging in place, just smoother.

Why I like it: When I’m fatigued mid-session, I slip into this without thinking. It gives my calves a breather without breaking the rhythm. It also looks sharp when it flows.

Try it when: You’re aiming to rope for 5+ minutes straight without dying.

2. High Knees

You’ve probably done these without a rope. Now toss a rope into the mix and it turns into chaos—in the best way. You’re basically running in place, knees up to hip level, while the rope whips underneath.

Why it’s a killer: The pace forces you to turn the rope fast and stay tight. It skyrockets your heart rate and hits your hip flexors hard.

When I use it: As a brutal finisher. Just 30 seconds and I’m huffing.

Tip: Don’t try this cold. You’ll hate yourself.

3. Double Unders

Old-school pain meets modern bragging rights. The rope passes under twice in one jump. Sounds simple. Isn’t. You’ve gotta jump a bit higher, whip the rope faster, and stay smooth on the landing.

I remember when I first strung 10 in a row. Felt like I unlocked a cheat code.

Why they’re gold: They jack up your intensity fast and demand coordination. Your calves and shoulders will feel every second.

What to expect: A lot of rope smacks before you get the rhythm down.

4. Criss-Cross

Right as the rope swings over your head, cross your arms, jump through, then uncross next time. It’s all timing.

Pro tip: Practice the cross without jumping first. Just learn where your hands go.

Why it rocks: It looks cool, opens up your shoulders, and trains your reflexes. I still mess this up now and then—and laugh every time.

Bonus: You’ll feel like you’re dancing with the rope when it clicks.

5. Side Swing (Side Swipe)

Here’s a break move that doesn’t stop the rope. Swing it to the right of your body, then to the left, then jump back in. Hands work together in a sideways figure-8.

Why do it: Active recovery. You’re still moving the rope, but your legs get a break. Also builds wrist control. Boxers love this one.

How I use it: Mid-set to catch my breath without totally stopping.

6. Side Swing Cross-Over

Take the side swing and level it up. After one side swing, bring the rope across your body for a criss-cross jump. Then side swing again. Repeat.

Why it matters: It’s coordination bootcamp. And it just feels good to flow into something that smooth.

Once mastered: You can combo this with footwork and look like a rope ninja.

7. Heel-Toe Step (Heel Taps)

Tap your heel in front of you as you jump. Alternate sides each time. One foot jumps, the other taps forward.

Why I dig it: Adds fun footwork and hits the front of your shins (your tibialis). Feels like dancing after a while.

Variation: Tap one heel forward while the opposite toe taps back. That’s next level.

8. Jogger’s Shuffle

Make your alternate foot jump look more like a run. Drive your knees slightly forward and move around if you’ve got space.

Why it’s solid: It mimics real running, working each leg separately. Great for endurance.

I use this on longer rope sessions where I want to build volume without frying my calves.

9. Skier Jumps

Keep your feet together and hop side to side like you’re skiing through moguls. Move 6–8 inches each jump.

Why do it: It’s fantastic for lateral strength and calf power.

Want to get spicy? Add a double-under while moving. (Yeah, I know, I’m cruel.)

10. Bell Jumps

Same idea as skier jumps, but you’re moving forward and back instead of side to side. Small hops—like a bell swinging.

Why it matters: Works different parts of your lower legs and builds agility for terrain changes—great if you run trails.

11. Mike Tyson Squat Jumps

The legend did these. You should too. Jump rope, but drop into a deep squat every few skips—while the rope keeps turning.

Pattern: 3 normal jumps, 1 squat jump. Or go full beast and squat every turn.

Why it hurts (in a good way): Quads, glutes, and lungs get torched. Builds explosive leg strength.

Truth: I only do these when I’m feeling brave.

12. Jump Rope Jacks

You know jumping jacks? Now do that with a rope. Jump with feet apart, next jump bring them together.

Why it’s good: Targets the inner and outer thighs and messes with your rhythm in a fun way.

Fun fact: Feels like grade-school gym class—but in a good way.

13. Mummy Kicks

This one’s as weird as it sounds—but it works. You kick one leg straight out in front while the other does the jumping, then switch legs on the next jump.

Almost like you’re doing a stiff-legged scissor motion. The name comes from that mummy-style posture: arms can cross out in front if you want to add flair.

Why I like it: Great for coordination and torches your hip flexors and quads. It’s sneaky tough. Plus, once you get it flowing, it actually looks kind of badass.

Heads up: The first few tries, you’ll feel clumsy. Stick with it.

14. Criss-Cross Double Unders

Alright, now we’re entering show-off territory. This one’s exactly what it sounds like: a double under, but on the second rotation, you cross your arms mid-air.

Why try it: Honestly? Because it’s just cool. You don’t need this for cardio—but nailing it feels elite. I still only hit it maybe one out of every three tries.

Bragging rights: If you can do these clean, you’re in rare company.

15. Backward Jumping

Everything you’ve been doing? Reverse it. Start spinning the rope backwards—over your head from the back, under your feet front to back.

Why it matters: Trains your brain differently, improves coordination, and hits your shoulders in a whole new way.

Pro tip: Don’t rush. Start with simple backward bounces before trying anything fancy.

16. Side Swing 360 (Turning Jump)

This one’s fun and dizzying all at once. You rotate your body slowly in a full 360° spin while jumping.

Start with a few side swings to build momentum, then begin turning your body 90 degrees at a time, keeping the rope spinning.

Why I love it: It builds rope control and awareness. You’ll feel like a ninja—especially when you land facing the same direction you started.

Good for: Breaking up the routine and reminding yourself that jump rope can be straight-up fun.

17. The “EB” or Elevation Crossover

This is a fancy one. You cross one arm behind your back while the other crosses in front as the rope swings under.

Why even try? Well, it’s part of competitive freestyle routines. Not necessary for runners, but if you’re jumping for fun or want to explore that performance-style rope work, this is one to chase.

Reality check: I don’t do this one often. It’s more for fun than function—but the coordination challenge is real.

18. Push-Up Burpee Rope Combo

Now we’re talking full-body pain.

You jump rope for a few skips, drop into a burpee, do a push-up, pop back up, and go right back into jumping.

Some maniacs even swing the rope under them as they drop—next level stuff.

Why it’s brutal (and awesome): Full-body shredder. If I’ve got 5 minutes to blow up my lungs and legs, this is what I do.

Tip: Start with 2–3 reps and work your way up. You’ll be cooked in no time.

19. Mic Release (Freestyle Toss)

Here’s where we just have fun.

You toss one handle of the rope in the air mid-jump and catch it, then keep going. Usually done from a side swing or a high jump.

Why it’s wild: It’s just for show. Adds style points. Doesn’t help your 5K time, but it will get you noticed.

My take: Not for the training plan, but perfect for those “I still got it” moments. Rope tricks can feel like play—and that’s a good thing.

20. Agility Footwork Mix (Scissors, Twists, Hops)

Want to level up your footwork?

Mix in lateral hops, scissor switches (front/back foot jumps), or even twisting your hips left and right with each jump.

These mimic agility ladder drills. I use them for trail training or just sharpening my coordination.

Why it works: Great for foot speed, directional awareness, and staying light on your feet.

Coach tip: Don’t overthink it. Just move your feet, keep the rope turning, and have fun with the patterns.

21. The “A-Skip” or Running Man Step

This one’s a skip-hop combo.

One knee lifts up (like a high-knee drill), while the opposite leg does a low hop. It’s kind of like slow-motion sprint mechanics with a rope spinning underneath.

Why I love it: It mimics real running drills. You’ll feel that hip flexor engagement and timing work together.

I use it: In warm-ups before running days when I want to fire up my neuromuscular system.

22. Freestyle Combos (The Real Endgame)

Here’s where everything comes together.

You chain moves—run in place for 10 jumps, side swing into double unders, hit a criss-cross, swing out, back into boxer skip, throw a spin in there.

The goal? Keep the rope moving while switching styles on the fly.

Why it’s next-level: You’re building rhythm, control, strength, and mental focus all at once. Plus—it’s fun.

Sometimes I lose myself in these freestyle bursts. It feels like dancing.

Want a challenge? Set a timer for 2 minutes and see how many tricks you can blend without stopping.

Quick Callout for You:

What’s your favorite jump rope move right now?

Which one on this list are you excited (or terrified) to try next?

Let me know—I wanna hear how it’s going for you.

And if you’re just starting to explore rope work, remember: the goal isn’t to impress anyone. It’s to stay sharp, get sweaty, and enjoy the process.

Final Thoughts: You Don’t Need to Master Them All

Whew. That’s a long list. Don’t freak out.

You don’t need to master all of these tricks. Honestly, I haven’t either.

My approach? Pick one or two new moves at a time—just like building mileage. No need to force-feed your brain 22 new footwork patterns overnight.

Try working a new move into your warm-up or cooldown. Or just carve out 5–10 minutes for skill practice. That’s what I do.

One session I’ll drill criss-crosses. Next time, maybe I’ll mess around with backward skipping or heel taps.

Improvement sneaks up on you when you’re not obsessing.

Pro Tip: YouTube Is Your Secret Weapon

Some of the best technique breakthroughs I’ve had came from watching slow-mo videos.

I remember watching a frame-by-frame breakdown of a double under and going, “Wait… I’m not tucking my knees.”

Once I fixed that? Boom—10 in a row. Sometimes you need to see the move before your body gets it.

Real Talk: Advanced Moves = Advanced Stress

But listen—this isn’t all sunshine and cool tricks.

Advanced moves = advanced stress. Don’t gloss over that.

Double unders? High-impact. That higher jump might look clean, but your joints take a beating if you overdo it.

If your calves or Achilles start barking, don’t tough it out. Drop the fancy stuff.

Stick to basic bounces, side swings, or take a full rest day. I’ve had to learn that the hard way—pushing through soreness until it turned into a full-blown issue.

Keep It Simple, Keep It Smart

Now, I treat the advanced moves like spice.

A sprinkle of double unders here, a dash of squat jumps there.

But the backbone of my rope workouts? Boxer skips. Alternating feet. The basics.

They keep me moving without wrecking my body.

Jumping rope might seem simple—until your shins ache and the rope keeps smacking your toes.

I used to think I had it down too. “Just hop and spin, right?” Wrong. Sloppy form cost me time, energy, and patience. I tripped so often, I nearly gave up. But once I dialed in my technique, things clicked—and I’m here to help you skip all that trial and error.

Let’s break it down, real-runner style. Here’s how to jump rope properly—and what mistakes to avoid if you don’t want to feel like you’re stuck in a tangle of plastic rope and frustration.

1. Stand Tall (Posture is Everything)

Don’t slouch. I see it all the time—folks hunched forward, staring at their feet like they’re waiting for the rope to hit. Don’t do that.

Stand tall like someone’s pulling a string from the top of your head. Eyes forward, chest open, shoulders relaxed and rolled back. That upright posture gives you better balance and helps you jump with less effort.

I always tell runners to lock eyes with a fixed point straight ahead. That one tip fixes more posture problems than you’d believe.

2. Fix Your Arm & Hand Setup

Hold the rope handles close to your hips, slightly in front of your body. Elbows bent at about 90 degrees and tucked in. Not out like airplane wings—that’s a shortcut to tripping.

I used to flail my arms like I was fighting bees. A coach on Reddit (who clearly knew their stuff) told me: “Imagine you’re holding eggs in your armpits. Don’t drop them.” That mental image saved me.

Most of the movement comes from your wrists, not your shoulders. Keep it tight and smooth.

3. The Wrist Snap (Not a Full Arm Swing)

This is where most beginners blow it—they try to muscle the rope around with their whole arm. Bad idea.

Your wrists are the engine here. Rotate them in tight, steady circles. That’s what controls speed and rhythm.

Back when I started, I was swinging from the shoulders. Not only did I gas out in minutes, but the rope whipped all over the place. Once I shifted to wrist flicks, everything changed—faster cadence, more control, less exhaustion.

If the rope keeps catching your feet, your wrist rhythm might be off. Focus on keeping the rotation smooth and even.

4. Jump Height & Footstrike: Keep It Low and Light

Here’s the truth: you only need to jump about 1–2 inches off the ground. That’s it.

I used to leap like I was clearing hurdles—burned energy and wrecked my joints. These days, I bounce just enough to let the rope pass under.

Land softly on the balls of your feet. Never slam down flat-footed or on your heels unless you want your knees and shins to hate you.

Knees should stay slightly bent—think athletic, not stiff. I like to cue my athletes with this: “Jump quiet.” If you can float over the floor without waking a baby upstairs, you’re golden.

5. Keep It Compact – No Fancy Business (Yet)

No high knees. No heel kicks. You don’t need tricks yet.

Keep your jumps straight up and down with just a slight forward lean. Think quick, tight hops. When I was starting, I wasted energy kicking my heels or tucking my knees. Timing got messy fast.

One trick I use? I imagine I’m hopping over a crack in the pavement—just a tiny lift to get over it clean. That image keeps my form sharp and minimal.

6. Breathe & Find Your Flow

Don’t hold your breath—it’s easier said than done when you’re focusing on rhythm and coordination.

I’ve found a simple breathing pattern helps: inhale for two jumps, exhale for two. Keeps things steady.

And speaking of rhythm—treat your rope like a metronome. I like tracks around 120–150 BPM when I’m in flow mode. If music isn’t your thing, say the words in your head: “jump-bounce, jump-bounce.” You’ll find a groove.

Once your body gets it, it’ll start running on autopilot—and that’s where the real fun begins.

Quick Fixes for Common Mistakes:

• Tripping a lot? Check your wrist speed and arm position.
• Getting winded too fast? You might be jumping too high.
• Rope keeps smacking the back of your legs? Relax those shoulders and tuck in your elbows.

Common Jump Rope Mistakes (And How to Fix ‘Em Without Losing Your Cool)

Let’s be real: jump rope looks simple—until your rhythm falls apart, your calves scream, and the rope feels like it has a vendetta against your shins.

I’ve been there. And I’ve coached plenty of folks through these rookie slip-ups. Here’s what to watch out for, and how to clean up your form like a pro.

The Double Hop – That Extra Bounce You Don’t Need

You know the one. Jump… bounce… jump… bounce. That sneaky little second hop that creeps in when you’re trying to find your rhythm. Totally normal for beginners—it’s like a safety net while you figure things out.

But over time, that extra bounce becomes dead weight. It kills your flow and slows you down.

The fix? Try speeding the rope up just a touch so your body doesn’t have time to squeeze in that extra hop. Focus on one clean jump per rotation.

I still catch myself doing it now and then when I’m tired—just shake it off and get back into a smooth rhythm.

Arms Flying Out Like Chicken Wings

This one always gets worse as you fatigue. Your elbows drift out wide, and suddenly the rope’s clipping your toes and you’re wondering why.

Spoiler: you just tightened the arc of the rope by making your arms go rogue.

Reset by bringing your elbows back in—hug them to your ribs like you’re protecting a secret. Sometimes I literally stop, shake out my arms, and start fresh.

Don’t be afraid to reset. Better to do it right than to keep whipping yourself like you’re fighting off a ghost.

Jumping Too High or Doing Weird Leg Stuff

Listen—this isn’t a high-jump contest. If your legs are flailing or kicking back like a donkey, you’re burning energy for nothing.

I once filmed myself in slow motion and was shocked—I looked like I was trying to hurdle over furniture.

What helped? Practicing low, chill jumps. Keep it compact. Once you trust the rope, the urge to over-jump fades.

Think “hop over a crack in the sidewalk,” not “clear the moon.” Smooth, quick, and controlled—that’s the goal.

Going Full Speed Before You’ve Earned It

We all want to feel fast, but speed without rhythm is just chaos.

I see beginners going turbo right out of the gate, only to trip every few seconds and get frustrated.

Start slower. Build rhythm. One trick I love is shadow jumping—just mimic the bounce motion without the rope, or swing it beside you while you jump.

Feel the bounce. Then, when it clicks, bring the rope in. Even pros like boxers build their speed on rhythm—not brute force.

Ignoring Pain Like It’s a Badge of Honor

I used to push through everything. Shin pain? “Whatever, I’ll tough it out.” Bad idea.

Jump rope hits your calves and shins hard, especially early on. Some soreness is fine—it means you’re working—but sharp pain? Red flag.

If your shins are screaming or your Achilles starts barking, stop. Take a breath. It might be your form (landing too hard, jumping too much, or not recovering enough).

Back off the volume, ice it, and stretch your calves and shins. I’ve skipped rest days before and paid the price—weeks off with nagging pain.

Be smart, not stubborn.

Listen to the Sound

This one’s underrated. Your ears can be better coaches than your eyes.

A solid session sounds like: tap, tap, tap from the rope, and a light pat-pat from your feet.

If you hear loud thuds or the rope smacking unevenly, it means your rhythm’s off—or you’re landing too hard.

Adjust. Reset your cadence. Soften your landings. Get back to that flow.

Jumping rope should feel snappy but light—like you’re floating just long enough to clear the rope, not trying to break the floorboards.

So You’re Either New to Interval Training—Or You’re Coming Back to It After a Long Break

Either way, welcome. This is where the grind begins and speed starts getting real.

But hold up—before you jump into a session that leaves you hobbling for three days, let’s talk about how to do it right. Intervals aren’t just about going hard. They’re about training smart and staying healthy while building that engine.

1. Warm Up Like You Mean It

This isn’t optional. I treat the warm-up like part of the workout now—because that’s what it is. It gets your muscles firing, your blood moving, and your brain out of zombie mode.

Back in the day, I used to skip this part. I’d head out the door, run hard from the jump, and wonder why I felt stiff, slow, or tweaked something halfway through. Rookie mistake.

Here’s what I do now before any interval session:

• Easy Jog (5–10 mins): Just a chill pace. Enough to break a sweat and get your heart ticking a little faster.
• Dynamic Drills: I hit some leg swings, walking lunges, high knees, butt kicks, and arm circles. Then I finish with 4–6 × 20-second strides—build-ups that wake up your legs and nervous system. Think of them like flipping the “ready” switch.
• Mental Reset: I also use this time to get my head straight. I might be shaking off work stress or early morning grogginess, but by the last stride, I’m locked in. I often visualize what’s coming: “Alright, I’m about to knock out these 400s. One at a time. Smooth and fast.”

Skip the warm-up, and you’re setting yourself up for a rough ride—maybe even an injury. Cold muscles hate surprises, and if you jump from 0 to 100, expect some backlash. Trust me, those extra 10 minutes are a game-changer.

Now your turn: Do you usually warm up before intervals? If not, what’s been holding you back?

2. Start Small – Don’t Burn Out on Day One

I still remember my first interval session. It wasn’t 10×800m or anything heroic. It was literally one block hard, one block easy—maybe a mile total. I was wrecked… and fired up.

That’s where I want you to start if you’re new. Keep it simple. Something like:

• 6–8 x 200m fast, 200m walk or jog
• Or even 1-minute run / 1-minute walk, repeated 10 times

These are short enough to finish strong and long enough to taste the work. Perfect for beginners or anyone returning from a layoff.

But here’s the trap: Trying to “prove” something with your first session. I’ve been there—ripping sprints like a maniac, thinking that’s how you get faster. What actually happened? DOMS for days, mental burnout, and zero consistency.

So here’s the golden rule: You should finish every early session thinking, “I could’ve done one more.” That’s how you build momentum.

Want to ramp it up later? Great—add one or two reps per week, or stretch the fast section by 15–20 seconds. But don’t jump both at once. You’re building a fire, not lighting a bonfire and watching it burn out in five minutes.

What’s the simplest interval workout you’ve tried? How did it feel? Let me know.

3. Train at the Right Effort—Not Maximum Destruction

One of the questions I get all the time is: “How fast should I run my intervals?”

Simple answer: Hard, but in control.

This isn’t about sprinting until your lungs explode. Unless you’re doing 100m reps, you shouldn’t be going all-out. Most of your interval work should sit around 80–90% of your max effort—fast enough to be uncomfortable, but not reckless.

And here’s something cool: research from the American Council on Exercise found that runners who trained around 80% effort actually improved more than runners who went all-out every time. Why? Because they could keep the quality high and show up fresh next time.

That blew my mind. It also made sense—I’ve burned myself out plenty of times chasing max speed. But once I started pulling back just a little, I found I could hold good form longer, avoid crashing, and actually get faster.

So next time you’re on the track, run hard—but save some juice in the tank.

4. Pacing Your Intervals: Don’t Go Out Like a Maniac

Want to blow up your interval workout in the first 5 minutes? Easy—just sprint that first rep like it’s a 100m dash and watch the rest of your session fall apart. I’ve seen it too many times, and I’ve done it myself more times than I care to admit.

A smarter approach? Use your current race paces as a guide, not what you wish you could run. If you’re doing short stuff—like 200s or 400s—aim for a touch faster than your 5K pace. For longer repeats—800s, 1Ks, or anything that takes you 3–5 minutes—stick to around 5K pace or a hair quicker. It should feel tough, but controlled.

You can also train by feel. Intervals usually sit around Zone 4–5—hard to very hard. Breathing heavy, legs screaming, but still runnable. Don’t obsess over your heart rate zones unless that’s how you like to train—just don’t gas yourself so early that you’re crawling through the last rep.

If anything, start conservative and build through the workout. A negative split—finishing your last reps stronger than the first—is a big win in my book.

5. Yes, You Can Walk the Recoveries (Especially Early On)

Let’s clear this up: walking during recoveries doesn’t make you weak. It makes you smart—especially if you’re new to intervals. Some of the best breakthroughs I’ve seen (and coached) came from runners who gave themselves permission to walk between reps. No shame in it.

Heck, I coached someone who used a mental hack: “Just get through this rep—you can walk after.” Nine times out of ten, they’d jog the recovery anyway, but the option to walk helped them show up and keep pushing.

Your recovery interval should work for you, not against you. Early on, matching work-to-rest is fine. For example, 2 minutes hard, 2 minutes easy. A 1:1 or 1:2 ratio works great when you’re still building that aerobic engine. But if you’re totally gassed and can’t hit the next rep with decent form or effort, take a bit more rest. That’s not failure—that’s smart pacing.

Just don’t go overboard. Standing still for five minutes between every interval turns the workout into a disjointed mess. You want your body to learn to recover while still moving. That’s part of the magic of interval training.

Brisk walks or light jogs keep the blood flowing and actually help you recover faster. According to endurance coaches and the crew at Strava’s stories hub, a good chunk of interval benefits comes not just from the hard work—but from teaching your body to bounce back while still in motion.

One way to check if you’re doing it right? See if your last recovery jog is just as strong as your first. That means you didn’t overcook it, and you’ve paced like a pro.

6. Pay Attention to Pain & Build Gradually

Intervals aren’t a casual jog in the park. They’re tough—and they should be. But there’s a fine line between “this burns” and “this is dangerous.”

Burning lungs? Normal. Legs screaming? Expected. But if you feel sharp pain, dizziness, or something that feels off, stop. Live to fight another day. I say this as a coach who’s had to learn the hard way—you don’t win points for being reckless.

And please don’t jump straight into doing intervals every day. That’s a shortcut to Injuryville. For most runners, one session a week is more than enough to start. Two max, if you’ve built a base and are targeting a race. Anything beyond that, and you’re just piling on risk.

Recovery is where the gains are made. Take it seriously. I used to do intervals and then smash a hard gym leg session the next day. Not smart. Now? I follow intervals with a chill recovery run, a swim, or even just a long walk to flush the junk out of my legs.

Let me tell you a story: Back when I first really started doing intervals right—consistent pace, smart recovery—I was stuck on a 5K plateau. No matter what I did, I couldn’t break my time. Then I committed to 6 weeks of steady intervals. I remember one day on the Bali beachfront—I ran a solo 5K time trial and shaved off 30+ seconds. It felt like magic, but it wasn’t—it was just consistent, hard work paying off.

That day made me a true believer. Now I use those same workouts with runners I coach. And guess what? It works. For them. For me. It’ll work for you too—if you respect the process.

Quick Gut Check:

• What’s your go-to recovery between intervals—walk or jog?
• How many interval sessions are you doing weekly right now?
• Are you recovering enough to hit your next rep strong?

Drop a comment or shoot me a message—I’d love to hear how your interval training is going and what’s worked (or flopped) for you.

Final Thoughts: Go Smart or Go Sore

Interval training works—no doubt about it. But only if you respect the process.

You’ve got to warm up like it matters, start small, and know when enough is enough. No badge of honor for limping for three days after every workout. The goal is to come back stronger, not crawl back to the couch.

Stick with it, and I promise you’ll start seeing progress: faster pace, smoother form, more confidence. Just take it one rep at a time.

Now I want to hear from you…

What’s your go-to interval workout? How do you warm up? And how do you know you’re training smart—not just hard?

Let’s swap notes.

#intervaltraining

Q1: What does cadence mean in running? What is SPM in running?

Cadence just means how many steps you take per minute while running. You’ll often see it called SPM – steps per minute. Think of it as your rhythm.

If your cadence is 170 SPM, that means both your feet are hitting the ground a combined 170 times every minute.

Here’s the deal:

• Faster cadence = shorter, quicker steps
• Slower cadence = longer strides, and often more pounding

But don’t go chasing some “perfect” number. Cadence is personal.

• Recreational runners: 160–170 SPM at easy pace
• Elites: Often hit 180+ SPM when racing (but slow down too when jogging)

So yeah—cadence = step rate. And SPM is how we measure it.
Simple stuff, but super useful when you start dialing in your form.

Q2: Is 180 SPM the ideal running cadence for everyone?

Nope. 180 SPM isn’t some magical number every runner needs to hit.

That whole 180 idea took off after coaches noticed elite Olympic runners cruising at that cadence during races. But guess what?
They’re elites. They’re flying.

You, me, and most runners aren’t always running sub-5-minute miles.

Your cadence depends on:

• Your pace
• Your height
• Your fitness
• Your form
• And a dozen other factors

If you’re running a 10:00/mile, trying to force 180 SPM might just feel awkward. I’ve seen beginners feel stiff and robotic trying to match that.

Here’s what I tell the runners I coach:
Aim for efficiency, not numbers.

If you’re overstriding and landing way in front of your body, bumping your cadence might help. But whether that’s 172 or 184 doesn’t matter much. Let your body guide you.

Even pros drop cadence on recovery runs and ramp it up on speed days.
Context matters.

So no, 180 isn’t “ideal” for everyone. It’s a decent reference point—but not a rule to live or die by.

Q3: How can I measure or check my running cadence?

You’ve got two ways: old-school and techie.

Old-school:
Go for a run and count how many steps you take in 60 seconds (both feet).
Or count just your right foot for 30 seconds and double it.

Example: If you count 40 steps with your right foot in 30 seconds, that’s 80 total per side—so 160 SPM.

Do it a few times to get an average. I do this sometimes during cooldowns just to check in.

Tech route:
Most GPS watches (Garmin, Coros, Polar, Apple Watch, etc.) track cadence automatically. So do apps like Strava and Nike Run Club.

• You’ll see “Average Cadence” after your run
• Some devices even show real-time SPM
• Foot pods or chest straps = more detailed data (but not necessary for beginners)

My advice? Use a mix. Count manually every now and then to stay in tune with your body.
And check your post-run data to spot patterns.

Q4: What is a “good” running cadence? Is 163 SPM good or bad?

Short answer: 163 is totally fine. Seriously.

There’s no “good” or “bad” number. It depends on you—your pace, your build, your form.

Most runners fall between 150 and 180 SPM for easy runs. A cadence around 163 is right in that moderate range.

One study I saw on RunnerClick broke it down something like this:

• 153–163 SPM: slower paces (bottom percentile to about 30th)
• 164–173 SPM: mid-pack
• 174+: fast, often seen in competitive runners

So 163? That’s not low, not high—it’s a middle-ground number.

If it feels smooth and you’re not landing heavy or way ahead of your hips, then keep rolling with it.

Now, if you’re feeling clunky or constantly sore, it might be worth nudging cadence up a bit.
But don’t obsess. A lot of runners cruise at 160-something for years without issues.

Q5: Does increasing cadence make you run faster?

It can, but not in the way most people think.

Speed = stride length × cadence.
So yes, if your stride stays the same and you step faster, you go faster.

But in real life, when you raise cadence, stride length usually shortens a bit—and that’s not a bad thing.

It often means you’re:

• Fixing overstriding
• Landing more underneath your body
• Becoming more efficient

Most runners I’ve coached don’t magically gain speed by boosting cadence alone.
But they do feel smoother.

• Less pounding
• Less wasted energy

And that adds up—especially over distance.

So yes, higher cadence can help you run faster, mostly by making you more efficient. But it’s not a silver bullet.

You still need to:

• Build your aerobic engine
• Strengthen your legs
• Train smart

I always say:
Don’t expect to shave 30 minutes off your marathon just by changing your step rate.
That’s like slapping a turbo sticker on your car and hoping it goes faster.
Put in the work. Cadence is just one piece of the machine.

Q6: Should beginner runners worry about cadence?

Honestly? Not right away.

If you’re just starting out, your job is to:

• Build a habit
• Run consistently
• Stay injury-free

Don’t get bogged down in numbers yet—especially not cadence.

In the beginning, most people shuffle a bit. That’s fine.
As you get stronger and run more, your cadence usually improves on its own. I’ve seen runners go from 150 to 170 naturally, just by running 3–4 times a week for a few months.

I usually tell new runners:
Forget the data for now. Just get out the door. Keep showing up.
Once you can run a few miles comfortably, then start playing with form and cadence.

If you’re really curious, just check your watch or app after a run. If you’re way down in the 140s and feel like you’re bounding all over the place, try quickening your steps a bit.
But no need to drill or force it.

Later on, when you’re chasing PRs or running longer races, cadence can become a great tool for improving efficiency.
But early on? It’s all about putting in the miles without breaking down.

Your Turn:

What’s your current cadence? Have you ever tried tweaking it?
Drop a comment and let’s chat about what’s working—or not working—for you.

Hydration Vest Q&A: Fit, Function, and Choosing the Right One

Q: How should a running hydration vest fit?

It should hug your body like it’s part of your skin—not clingy, not floppy.

The best way I explain it to runners is this: jump up and down. If the vest is bouncing around like a loose backpack, it’s too big. If it’s crushing your chest and you can’t breathe deeply, it’s too tight.

Aim for snug across the chest and ribs, with zero gaps at the shoulders. I like mine to sit high and tight but not in a way that cuts off airflow or arm swing.

If you feel rubbing or pressure points, tweak the straps or swap sizes. Remember—fit is personal. I’ve tried a vest that fit my training partner like a dream, but felt like a torture device on me.

Don’t be afraid to test and return until you find your “second skin.”

Q: Why not just carry a water bottle?

Look, I’ve done the handheld bottle thing. For short runs, fine. But the minute you go over an hour—or hit the trails—you’ll start dreaming of something hands-free.

That’s where the vest comes in. You get fluid, fuel, phone, keys—all packed evenly across your torso. No bounce, no bottle-switching hand fatigue, no praying there’s a water fountain in the next mile.

I’ve run ultras in Bali heat where a vest saved me. On the trail, there are no aid stations. Your vest is your aid station. It keeps you moving, keeps you fueled, and keeps your hands free for tough terrain or fast miles.

It’s not about gear for gear’s sake—it’s about staying in rhythm and not bonking from dehydration 10 miles from home.

Q: Do I need a hydration vest?

Depends on what kind of runner you are.

If you’re out for 30 minutes on pavement, probably not. But once you go past an hour—or start exploring off-road—you’ll be glad you brought it.

I always tell my runners: if you’ve ever run out of water mid-run, hated holding bottles, or felt weighed down by a waist belt, a vest’s your solution.

I didn’t think I needed one until I cramped hard halfway through a long trail run with no refill options. Lesson learned. Now I don’t start a long run without it.

If you’re running 10K+ regularly, doing hills, or training in heat? Get a vest. Worst-case, you don’t use it every time. Best-case, it saves your butt when things get tough.

Q: How do I choose the right size?

This one’s easy to mess up if you don’t measure.

Grab a tape, wrap it around the widest part of your chest (or under bust for women), and check the size chart for that brand. Don’t guess based on your T-shirt size.

If you’re between sizes, think about what you’ll wear underneath:

• Thick winter gear? Size up.
• Just a tee or no shirt? Maybe size down.

Try it on with water weight in it if you can—it fits way different when loaded. And don’t panic if it feels snug—that’s what you want.

Women-specific cuts exist for a reason, so don’t settle for unisex if the fit isn’t right.

My go-to tip: Always go with the vest you can tighten down. You can loosen it mid-run—but you can’t shrink an oversized vest at mile 12.

Q: How much water should I carry?

Rule of thumb: 0.5 to 1 liter per hour, depending on the heat and your sweat rate.

I run hot, so for a two-hour run in Bali’s sun, I pack 1.5L minimum. If it’s cooler or I can refill mid-run, I carry less.

No need to fill to max “just in case”—water weighs over 2 pounds per liter. That adds up fast, especially if you’re climbing. I’ve made that mistake before and paid for it on the hills.

Practice will teach you your sweet spot. Some days, I carry a single soft flask and a backup gel. Others, I load 2L and pack salt tabs. Adjust based on distance, weather, and access.

Don’t forget: running dry sucks way more than running slightly heavy.

Q: How do I clean a hydration vest and bladder?

I’ve ruined more than one bladder by “forgetting” to clean it after a run with sports drink.

Learn from me: rinse everything right after your run.

• Vest: Hand-wash with cold water and sports detergent. I toss mine in the sink after sweat-heavy trail days. Air dry—don’t bake it in the dryer.
• Bladders & soft flasks: Use dish soap and warm water.
• If they start to stink or get moldy, clean with vinegar, baking soda, or special cleaning tablets.

Pro tip: Store the bladder in the freezer between runs. Kills mold and keeps it fresh.

Oh, and clean the bite valve—nasty stuff hides in there.

If a bladder turns funky beyond saving? Toss it. New ones are cheap. Your lungs and stomach will thank you.

Q: Can I wear a vest during road races?

Yes. I’ve done it.

Some people think vests are just for trails, but more and more road runners are using them—especially if you don’t want to rely on crowded water stations or you’ve got your own fueling plan.

I used a vest during a city marathon—it let me skip half the aid stations and stay in rhythm.

Just don’t show up with a 12L mountain pack. A slim 2–5L vest with front flasks is perfect—lightweight, low-profile, and holds your essentials.

Check the race rules though—big-city marathons might have restrictions.

But honestly, if you train with it and it feels good, race with it. One less thing to stress about on race day.

Q: What’s the difference between a running vest and a hiking backpack?

Night and day.

A running vest is built to move with you—not flap around behind you like a schoolbag.

• Vests: Sit higher, hug your chest, and keep weight balanced. Use stretchy fabric, have front storage, and let you grab water or fuel on the go.
• Backpacks: Bounce, sway, and dig into your shoulders unless they’re nearly empty. Make you stop and fish around for gear.

I’ve run with a daypack before (desperation move)—it bruised my shoulders and slapped my back the whole time. Never again.

If you’re running, use a vest. It’s a purpose-built tool. Think of it like using racing flats vs. hiking boots. Sure, both cover your feet—but only one’s made to go fast.

Staying on top of your academic workload can feel a lot like training for a marathon. It takes discipline, time, and plenty of mental endurance. And just like with long-distance running, sometimes you need a coach in your corner — especially when it comes to writing essays. Whether you’re grinding through late-night study sessions or juggling multiple classes and side jobs, asking for writing help isn’t a shortcut. It’s a smart strategy. 

But in a market flooded with options, how do you separate the pros from the pretenders? How can you be sure which is the best essay writing service and is worth trying? Let’s break it down, step by step.

Why More Students Are Turning to Essay Help

College life is high-intensity. Expectations are up, free time is down, and every paper feels like a sprint against the clock. Professors want polished, original work, but rarely walk you through what that actually looks like.

That’s why more students are seeking out essay writing support. It’s not about cheating the system. It’s about learning from solid examples, boosting clarity, and staying in the race when life throws curveballs.

A reliable essay writing service can act like your pacing partner, keeping you on track and helping you reach the finish line with confidence. But just like you wouldn’t let anyone coach your next 10K, you shouldn’t trust just any writer with your GPA.

What Makes a Great Essay Writer?

The best essay writers are like elite trainers. They know the terrain, adapt to your pace, and guide you toward your best performance. Here’s what to look for:

1. Academic Strength

Top writers hold real credentials. They’ve studied the subjects, understand academic tone, and know how to handle formats like MLA, APA, or Chicago. Ask about their background before committing.

2. Versatility

Like a runner who can handle trails, sprints, and marathons, a solid writer adjusts to different assignments. Whether it’s a science report or a philosophy paper, they adapt their voice and structure to fit the goal.

3. Clear Communication

A good coach doesn’t ghost you halfway through training. The same goes for essay writers. They should respond quickly, ask clarifying questions, and be open to revisions.

4. Originality

Copying someone’s workout plan won’t win races. The best essay writers create original content using verified sources and critical thinking. Look for platforms that back this up with plagiarism reports and authenticity guarantees.

Red Flags to Watch Out For

Not all help is helpful. Some services look impressive but fall apart under real pressure. Watch for these warning signs:

• Unclear pricing: Hidden fees often show up after you’ve committed. A clear cost upfront is a sign of professionalism.
• No revision policy: Writers should be open to feedback. If they aren’t, it’s a dealbreaker.
• Automated content: If it reads like a bot wrote it, it probably was. Tools can assist, but they can’t replace a human brain.
• Impossible deadlines: A legit expert can work quickly, but quality takes time. Beware of unrealistic promises.

Reviews Matter More Than You Think

Every runner knows the value of a good product review before buying gear. The same goes for essay services. Independent review platforms like NoCramming let you see behind the marketing – real feedback from students who’ve used the service.

Check forums and comparison sites to hear about turnaround times, customer support, and refund policies. These reviews can help you avoid disappointment and find your ideal match.

https://www.pexels.com/ru-ru/photo/18512803/

When Cheap Becomes Costly

Budget matters, but going too cheap can hurt your performance. Low-cost services often rely on underpaid freelancers or AI tools that spit out generic content. That leads to sloppy arguments, weak citations, or grammar mistakes that tank your grade.

Instead, look for value. The best essay writers offer tiered pricing or first-time discounts. You don’t have to empty your wallet to get quality help; you just need to choose wisely.

Think of it like buying running shoes. Sure, you can grab a cheap pair, but if they don’t support your stride or fall apart mid-run, you’ll pay the price later in discomfort, injuries, or setbacks. The same goes for essay help. 

A slightly higher investment in a reputable service can save you stress, revisions, and missed opportunities. Choose writers who care about your progress, not just your payment, and you’ll get results that actually support your long-term success.

How to Build a Productive Writer Relationship

Think of a good essay writer like a personal trainer. They’re there to support your goals, not just hand over results. To make the most of their help:

• Give clear instructions: Include your professor’s rubric, any class notes, and examples of your past work so they can match your voice.
• Ask why, not just what: A good writer will explain their structure, sources, and choices if you ask. That’s where the learning happens.
• Study the drafts: Learn how the arguments are built. See how transitions work. Pay attention to citations. This feedback loop sharpens your writing.

And just like with a fitness plan, consistency is key. Don’t treat the experience as a one-time fix and use each paper as a training session to build stamina, clarity, and confidence in your academic voice. 

Over time, this process not only helps you meet deadlines but also strengthens the critical thinking and communication skills that will carry you far beyond the classroom.

Final Takeaway: Train Smart, Write Smarter

Using an essay writing service isn’t a sign of weakness. It’s a smart move when used correctly, just like using a fitness coach or a running plan. It’s about building your strength, sharpening your form, and staying mentally fresh.

Seek out services with transparent pricing, strong reviews, and real writers who take pride in their craft. Whether you’re in your first semester or wrapping up your final thesis, the right support can help you stay steady and cross the finish line strong.

And never forget, writing is a skill, just like running. With guidance, practice, and the right pace, you’ll only get better over time.

Do You Actually Need a Hydration Vest?

Let’s be honest. Just because something looks cool on Instagram doesn’t mean you need it.

I get this question a lot: “Do I actually need a hydration vest?”

The short answer? It depends. Depends on how far you’re running, the weather, and whether you want to carry stuff or not. A vest can be a game changer—or just extra weight.

Let’s break it down like I would with one of my clients.

For Short Runs (Up to 60 Minutes)

If you’re heading out for a 30- or 40-minute jog around the block or park, chances are you don’t need a vest.

You can drink before you run, knock out your workout, and rehydrate after. Boom—done.

I’ll admit it: I don’t even take a bottle with me unless it’s scorching outside. For organized 5Ks or 10Ks? Water stations got your back. Honestly, wearing a full hydration vest for a 5K is like bringing a suitcase for a sleepover. Overkill.

And I’m not alone. There was this great Reddit thread where runners debated why anyone wears a vest for a 5K. Most agreed—it’s unnecessary unless it’s part of a longer run.

Like if you’re running to the race, doing the 5K, then running home. Or you’re training in the desert and the race might run out of water (yes, that happens—ask the rookie who shared his horror story from a desert race).

Bottom line? Unless your short run is in brutal heat or part of a bigger session, ditch the vest. Your shoulders and back will thank you.

👉 What about you? Do you carry water for 5Ks? Or trust the aid stations?

For Medium Runs (60–90 Minutes)

Now we’re getting into the zone where a hydration vest starts making real sense.

Once you’re running an hour or more—say, 10 to 15 kilometers—hydration becomes more than a nice-to-have. Especially in hot, humid places like Bali (trust me, I’ve sweated through those runs).

Some runners can get by with a handheld bottle or waist belt here. But personally? I’d rather not have something bouncing at my hip or cramping up my grip for over an hour.

I prefer to spread the load with a small vest—just enough room for 1 liter of water and a couple gels.

I often tell beginners stepping into their first 10K or 15K: test a lightweight vest. You’ll feel freer than with a bottle in your hand the whole way.

I remember one guy on a forum saying he only wears a vest for “half-day humidity runs.” That tracks. In cooler weather or if your route has fountains, you can skip it. But if you’re running in 85°F heat with no water in sight, the vest pays off.

👉 Have you ever wished you had water halfway through a longer run? That’s your sign.

For Long Runs (2+ Hours) & Trails

Now we’re in vest territory for real.

If you’re training for a marathon, running 20+K, or exploring the trails for hours, a hydration vest is more than handy—it’s a must.

You can try stashing bottles along your route or looping back to your car, but let’s be honest: that’s a logistical headache.

On trails, it’s worse. No fountains. No minimarts. Just you, nature, and maybe a few cows.

When I ran my first 25K trail race, pretty much everyone had a vest. It was like a uniform. And for good reason—those aid stations were spaced out.

If you weren’t carrying your own fluids, you were risking bonking hard. Trust me, nothing teaches you that lesson faster than cramping up mid-mountain climb with no water in sight.

Plus, it’s not just about fluids. A good vest lets you stash electrolytes, food, your phone, maybe a rain jacket or headlamp if you’re out early or late. It’s trail insurance.

Now, I know a few elite runners who go minimal—even in ultras. One guy on Reddit ran a 100-miler with just a handheld bottle, relying solely on aid stations. Respect. But for the rest of us mortals in the middle or back of the pack, that’s playing with fire.

👉 Trail tip: If the trail is remote and you’re going over an hour, pack your own water. Period.

The Rule of Thumb I Give My Athletes

• If you’ve ever cut a run short or felt like crap because you ran out of water or didn’t have a gel—get the vest.
• If you’ve survived fine with a bottle or fountain stop on your 90-minute long runs, you can probably wait.
• If you’re building mileage, running in heat, or hitting the trails, it’s one of the smartest gear upgrades you can make.

Also, forget the stigma. If a hydration vest gives you confidence, wear it—even for a marathon.

One veteran runner said it best: “If wearing a vest keeps your head in the game, wear it. No one cares.”

That’s the truth. Run your race. Do what helps you finish strong.

Run Your Own Race—Seriously

If there’s one thing I’ve learned the hard way, it’s this: don’t waste your energy chasing someone else’s pace. Run your own damn race.

It’s not just a mantra for race day—it’s a mindset for the long haul. Forget what Instagram runners are doing. Forget what your ultra-fit coworker brags about. Focus on you.

Skip the Comparison Spiral

I’ve seen it a hundred times: someone starts running, makes a little progress, then sees a friend post a sub-8-minute mile and suddenly feels like crap. Don’t fall into that trap.

You never know the full story behind someone else’s pace. Maybe they’ve been running for ten years. Maybe they have zero injuries and perfect genes. You don’t. You’ve got your story, and it’s valid.

Back when I started, I could barely hold a jog for five minutes without feeling wrecked. That first 12-minute mile? I felt like a damn champion. And honestly, I was—because I showed up, and I pushed through the burn. That’s what counts.

So next time you feel “slow,” ask yourself:

• Am I better than I was a month ago?
• Can I breathe easier?
• Does my body feel stronger?

That’s the stuff that matters.

Your Goals, Not Theirs

Not everyone’s chasing marathons—and that’s fine. Some of the best runners I’ve coached weren’t obsessed with race medals. They wanted to:

• Run three times a week without pain.
• Lose 15 pounds.
• Have the energy to chase their kids.

Those are legit goals. Don’t let some flashy running blog convince you otherwise.

When I first laced up, my goal was simple: get healthy and feel human again. Later, I aimed for a half marathon. Then trail ultras. But that was my ladder. You’ve got yours. So build it your way.

Make Your Training Yours

Here’s something that might surprise you: there’s no universal “right” way to train.

You like early morning runs while the world’s still quiet? Go for it. Prefer blasting metal through your headphones on a treadmill at night? Do it. Hate back-to-back running days? Then don’t. Your body’s talking—listen.

There’s no rulebook saying you’ve got to follow some perfect 12-week plan or run six days a week. The real trick? Find what makes you want to come back for more.

I’ve tested every schedule under the sun. The one that works? The one you’ll stick with.

Walk-Runners, Stand Proud

Let’s squash this nonsense once and for all: if you mix running and walking, you are still a runner.

I’ve seen runners crush marathons with timed walk breaks. In fact, that strategy keeps a ton of people injury-free and smiling across finish lines. If walking helps you go longer, stay healthy, and enjoy the ride—why stop?

There’s no gold medal for running nonstop. You’re training, you’re sweating, and you’re showing up. That’s what matters. So hold your head up and rock the walk-run plan if it works for you.

But If You Hate It, That’s Okay Too

Yeah, I’m a running coach saying this: if you’ve given running a real shot—like, not just two miserable jogs—and you still hate every single step? Then maybe it’s not your thing. And that’s okay.

Try dancing, cycling, hiking. Move in a way that makes you feel alive.

But here’s the catch: don’t quit just because it’s hard at first. Everything feels hard in the beginning. The trick is to give it a few weeks—long enough to get past the awkward phase and see if the spark lights.

You might surprise yourself. I’ve coached plenty of folks who swore they’d never be runners… until they were.

Remember Why You Started

At the end of the day, forget the noise. Strip it all back. Why did you start running?

Maybe it was to:

• Feel better.
• Lose weight.
• Get strong.
• Clear your head.
• Prove something to yourself.

Whatever it was—hold on to it.

For me, running started out as a weight-loss mission. But it morphed into something deeper. These days, it’s my therapy. My quiet space. My daily dose of grit.

Some days it hurts. Some days I don’t want to go. But every day I finish, I feel like a better version of myself.

So wherever you’re at—first mile, fiftieth race, or somewhere in between—just keep showing up. Your race. Your pace. Your path.

And trust me… when you run for you, you’ll never be “behind.”

Quick Gut-Check

• What’s your “why” for running?
• What goal actually excites you right now?
• Are you training in a way that fits your life—or someone else’s?

Drop your thoughts below. Let’s talk. 🏃‍♂️💬 #RunYourOwnRace

Let’s Talk About the Tough Stuff

Even with the best plan and all the motivation in the world, you’re still gonna run into roadblocks. That’s just how it goes. Every beginner hits a few snags—it’s normal.

The trick is being ready for them so they don’t knock you off track. Let’s break down a few common ones and how I’ve handled them—or coached others through them—along the way.

1. “I’m Sore. I’m Tired. Am I Broken?”

Nope. You’re just new to this—and that’s a good thing.

When I first started running, the soreness was brutal. My quads screamed at me every time I climbed stairs. But that soreness? It’s a sign your body’s waking up to the work. It’s adapting. Getting stronger.

But yeah, it can be a lot. Here’s what I tell my clients (and remind myself): space out your runs with recovery days. That’s not slacking—that’s smart. Do some gentle stretching or even light yoga. And sleep. Seriously—your body fixes itself while you’re snoring.

Also, check your effort. If you finish every run feeling wrecked, dial it back. Run/walk more. Pace it out. You’re training for consistency, not collapse.

What helped me a lot? Active recovery. Even just walking around the neighborhood the day after a tough run worked better than being glued to the couch.

2. “Ouch. Is This Pain Normal?”

Some aches are part of the deal. Sore shins, a little knee tightness—it happens as your legs learn to handle the pounding.

But sharp, stabbing pain? Or anything that sticks around? That’s your body yelling at you to stop.

I used to ignore stuff like this. Big mistake. I ended up limping around for weeks instead of resting for a couple of days. Lesson learned.

If it hurts during a run, stop. Walk it out. Ice it when you get home. Take a rest day—or two. If it keeps hurting or gets worse, go see someone. It’s not weakness—it’s wisdom.

Also, don’t skip strength training. A few sets of lunges, squats, and calf raises each week can work wonders. It builds the scaffolding your joints need to stay healthy. I used to think only “serious” runners did strength work. Wrong. Every runner should.

3. “The Weather Sucks… And So Does My Schedule.”

Running doesn’t live in a perfect world. It lives in the real one. Some days, the weather goes sideways. Other days, life punches your schedule in the face.

I’ve been there. Rainy season in Bali? I’ve either run straight through the storm or traded that day’s workout for a home HIIT session. You don’t always need to run to keep momentum.

No treadmill? Do jump rope. Dance in your living room. Do burpees. Or swap days—run tomorrow when it’s clearer.

The key is staying in motion, even if the plan shifts.

Missed your morning run? No big deal—see if you can sneak it in after work. Adapt. Stay flexible. Don’t let one missed workout turn into a missed week.

4. “Why Am I Still So Slow?”

Let me say this loud: Progress isn’t linear.

When I started, I plateaued hard around 2-mile runs. Couldn’t break past it. I felt like everyone else was flying while I was crawling.

Then one day, something clicked. I ran 3 miles. No warning, no fireworks—just boom, I was there.

That’s how the body works sometimes. It adapts in bursts, not on a schedule.

Track your own numbers. Maybe your breathing’s easier now. Maybe your recovery heart rate is better. Maybe you can now run 15 minutes straight when before you barely did 5.

Ignore other people’s pace. Focus on yours. Trust the process. It works—if you let it.

5. “I’m Bored. Motivation’s Fading.”

Totally normal. That “new runner buzz” wears off after a few weeks. It’s not always going to feel exciting.

So you have to shake things up.

Change routes. Explore a different part of town. Run without a watch. Or set a mini challenge like “I’ll run until that next tree” or “Let’s see if I can go just one minute longer.”

Personally, I like making playlists I only listen to during runs. Or podcasts where I don’t hit play unless I’m moving. Makes me want to get out there.

Even better—sign up for a fun local 5K. Nothing serious. Just something to work toward.

And revisit your “why.” Is it about health? Mental clarity? That future finish line? Keep that front and center.

Me? I picture that moment I cross the finish line, arms up, dead tired but proud. That image has pulled me through more slumps than I can count.

6. “My Mind Quits Before My Legs Do.”

Welcome to running. This sport is 50% physical, 50% mental—and some days, more mental than muscle.

You’ll hear voices saying, “This is too hard,” “You’re not a real runner,” “Just stop.”

Here’s how I push through:

• Break it down. “Just get to 5 minutes.” Then another 5. Suddenly, you’ve done 20.
• Use mantras. I repeat stuff like, “One step at a time,” or “Strong, steady, smooth.” Corny? Maybe. But it works.
• Tune in. When my head gets noisy, I focus on my breath, the rhythm of my feet, the scenery. Get out of your head and into the run.

Also—give yourself some grace. Bad runs happen. They don’t mean you’re weak—they’re part of the game. I’ve had awful runs followed by breakthroughs. Stay in it.

Final Thought

These hurdles? They don’t mean you’re failing. They mean you’re in the game.

Real runners don’t breeze through every run. They struggle. They doubt. They get sore, tired, bored, and frustrated. And they keep going anyway.

I’ve had runs where I wanted to quit at minute two. I’ve slogged through monsoons, cramps, and low motivation. And I’ve had those magic days where everything clicked and I felt like I could fly.

You’re not meant to avoid the hard parts—you’re meant to face them.

That’s what makes you a runner.

Now you: Which one of these hurdles have you hit recently? How did you deal with it—or what will you try next time? Drop it in the comments. Let’s talk runner-to-runner. 🏃‍♂️💬