You Already Know What to Do. Here’s the Hard Part.
Moving from the sidelines to the race.
You already know what you need to do to feel better.
You already know what you want to do to change. To wake up excited, not dreading the day. To fall asleep proud of how you showed up and spent your time.
You know it.
It’s inside you.
You don’t need someone else to tell you how to improve your life, how to be happier, how to feel more alive.
Everything you read — including this post — is just a perspective. An experience. It might help you start rolling the ball forward, but ultimately? You have to figure out what works for you.
There’ve been a few times in my life when I felt fully connected to this version of me that I love being. The one who wakes up energized, moves through the day with joy, and collapses into bed tired — the good kind of tired. The kind that lets you fall asleep fast and stay asleep all night. The kind that makes you excited to do it all again tomorrow.
I think about those times a lot. I reflect on what was different. And what changed to made me lose it.
The answer is: life happened.
It wore me down. Challenged me. Covered up that joyful version of myself in layers of heaviness.
Because here’s the truth I’ve finally come to terms with:
Joy takes effort.
It’s not always hard, but it does take work.
I spent years complaining. I was negative about everything — my job, my body, my diet, my obligations. I told myself I was “venting” or “processing,” but really I was just giving those negative thoughts more oxygen. I was fueling the fire. I was deepening the belief that “life sucks and it’s always going to suck.”
I gained a lot of weight. I didn’t recognize my body anymore. I had to size up in almost everything. And looking back, my body was just reflecting my life choices: stagnant, heavy, unhealthy.
It was a symptom of a deeper truth: I wasn’t taking responsibility. I was letting life happen to me, instead of owning the fact that so much of what I was experiencing was a result of my choices.
That’s the uncomfortable truth I’ve now come to embrace: Nearly everything we do is a choice.
From brushing our teeth to staying in jobs that break us, we are choosing. Even when we aren’t aware of it. Being unhappy was a choice.
I chose to view life through a darker lens.
I chose to see walking my dog as a chore instead of a blessing.
I chose to view my job as a prison instead of asking myself what freedom could look like.
I chose to eat poorly, drink heavily, and call it “coping.”
I didn’t know I was choosing these things. But I was. And those choices created a reality that felt dark and inescapable.
Until one day — everything changed.
November 2022. I was standing on the sidelines of the NYC Marathon, waiting to cheer for a friend. My now-wife was next to me. And after my friend ran by, I turned to her and said:
“I’m going to run this.”
Not “maybe.” Not “one day.”
Just: I’m going to run this.
That was my line in the sand.
I made a statement of belief, before I had any proof I could follow through.
I told my subconscious: You better f*ing be on the right side of this line.
And I got to work.
I signed up for races. Started running. Researched gear, logged miles. You know how this story ends: I ran that marathon.
And I’m running it again this year. And I’ll run it every year after that. I am a marathoner — forever and always.
And once that shift happened — everything else became clear.
I realized I had been choosing a poor diet. So I chose a better one. I ate foods that made me feel good. The weight fell off.
I realized I had been choosing alcohol that made me feel foggy in the mornings. So I stopped drinking. I now wake up — often before my alarm — at 5:30am every day.
I realized I had been choosing a job that left me depleted and sick. So I left. Because no paycheck is worth losing yourself over.
Life stopped being something that was happening to me.
I got back in the f***ing driver’s seat.
And I realized: the only thing I can truly control… is me.
My choices.
That tiny slice of control in a chaotic world? That’s mine. And I’m holding onto it with both hands.
The life you want? It’s already there. It’s in you. You know what you need to do. You can feel it. It’s still there, even if it’s buried. You just need to draw your own line in the sand.
For me, that line was movement.
Running. Lifting. Fitness. Taking care of my body in a way that built momentum and confidence in every other part of my life.
And the more I reflected, the more I realized — movement had always been the common thread during the best chapters of my life. Back in high school. In my 20s. In my 30s.
When I moved, I felt like me.
When I moved, I chose joy.
So now I’m here. Choosing it again.
Choosing me again.
And if you’re reading this…
Maybe it’s time you did too.
Have you ever had a ‘line in the sand’ moment like this? Hit reply or leave a comment. I’d love to hear your story!