The Most Unexpected Plot Twist Of My Year: Running
A few months ago, if you had told me I’d voluntarily wake up early to run with strangers, and somehow enjoy it, I would have assumed you were lying or severely overestimating my commitment to cardio.
And yet, here I am.
Looking forward to runs, talking about breathwork and somehow becoming the kind of person who says things like, “Let’s go for a run.”
Honestly, who is she?!
I joined thinking this would be about fitness. Run a little, sweat a lot, pretend to enjoy cardio and go home.
But somewhere between the running, meditation by the bay and conversation around discipline and presence… it quietly became something else.
The first few runs were humbling. Obviously not in the “main character transformation” kind of way. But more like:
“Why are my lungs behaving like this?”
“Who voluntarily does this every weekend?”
And my personal favourite, “This is enough personal growth for today.”
Within minutes, my brain would start negotiating with me to stop. And that is when I realised something interesting: Running has very little to do with running.
It was all mental.
Because every time I felt that discomfort, my immediate instinct was to escape it. Slow down. Stop. Distract myself. Do literally anything else.
But every time I stayed with it for just a little longer, something kept shifting.
What made the experience different, though, was the community itself.
I am talking about Sacred Space Run Club, a community that didn’t just focus on pace, stamina, or how fast you could finish a route. There was equal importance given to slowing down, breathing properly, being present, and understanding how much your mind controls your body before your body actually gives up.
And trust me, as someone who never liked running, that became very obvious quickly.
At some point during the runs, especially once my breathing settled into a rhythm, my mind became quieter. Just: step, breath, step, breath. It would feel spiritual in its own way.
It reminded me of something I learned during Vipassana – how awareness grows when distraction reduces. Running felt like a moving version of that. You become deeply aware of your breath, your thoughts, your resistance, and how quickly your mind tries to convince you to quit uncomfortable things.
The community made all the difference, too.
Nobody cared whether you were fast or slow. There was no intimidating fitness culture or pressure to perform. People simply showed up consistently and encouraged others to do the same. And I think that energy matters more than people realise.
Because trying something difficult becomes easier when you don’t feel judged while doing it.
And somewhere, between struggling through runs, learning breathwork and completing 4kms without stopping, I realised this was never about fitness. It was about discipline, presence and staying with discomfort long enough to discover you’re capable of more than you assumed.
And honestly, for someone who once hated running, the fact that I now look forward to running says enough.
So yes, “How’s the josh?” Pretty high, actually.