My First Trail 5K: A Test for Mind, Body, and Spirit

A few months into my trail running journey, I decided it was time to sign up for my first race—a local 5K. This wasn’t just about testing my fitness; it was about proving something to myself. I wanted to push my mind, body, and spirit in a way I never had before. I was excited but also incredibly nervous.

Knowing I might lag behind the crowd, I leaned into humor and wore my trucker hat that boldly stated, "Going Nowhere Fast." The course had 900 feet of climbing in just 5 kilometers, and I had no idea what to expect. I didn’t warm up, didn’t do any dynamic stretching—I simply waited at the back of the pack, letting my nerves build as the announcer spoke. I couldn’t hear a word. My mind was racing as much as my heart.

As soon as the race started, I followed the crowd. The first climb was brutal, but to my surprise, I started passing people—one after another. In true David Goggins fashion, I was “taking souls.” The downhill arrived, and I leaned into it, flying past even more runners. My ADHD kept me blissfully unaware of how far I had gone or how much further I had to go. Even as the finish line came into view, I wasn’t sure if another climb or turn awaited me.

What I realized too late was that I had more in the tank. I could have pushed harder, gone faster, tested my limits even more. But at that moment, none of that mattered. I had finished.

As I stood around after the race, a woman asked me how long I had been running.

“Just a few months,” I told her. “This was my first race.”

She looked at me, puzzled. “You mean your first race with this group?”

“No,” I clarified. “First race ever.”

Walking back to my car, another racer approached me. “I tried to catch you on the downhill,” he said, “but you just lit it up!”

I laughed, said my goodbyes, and left, feeling accomplished. But it wasn’t until I received the email with the race results that everything sank in—I had won first place in my age group.

Sitting in my car, I cried. Not because of the medal, but because of the overwhelming sense of accomplishment, of pride. I had done something purely for myself—for my mental and physical well-being—and I had done it well.

I had never envisioned myself as a runner, let alone an athlete. Even in that moment, I still struggled with the label. But when the actual winner’s medal arrived in the mail, I knew I was on a rewarding path. And I knew I had to keep pushing forward.

The race rewarded my efforts with a delicious, well-earned waffle and latte at a local coffee shop—because nothing says victory like carbs and caffeine!

Stacking Bricks: Celebrating Every Success

This race was more than just a run—it was a lesson in showing up for myself. Sure, I didn’t place overall, and it was just an age group award—but I did it! I showed up, put in the work, and proved that consistency pays off. Every time we challenge ourselves, we stack another brick in the foundation of who we’re becoming.

Hard work isn’t just about sweat and effort—it’s about believing in yourself enough to start. Invest in yourself physically and mentally, and the results will come. And here’s the magic: that growth isn’t just yours. It spills over to your friends, family, colleagues, and everyone around you.

So, keep lacing up. Keep stacking those bricks. Keep celebrating every milestone—no matter how big or small. Because every single step forward is a step toward something greater.