Finding joy in the middle miles (CIM Build-Up Series: 7 Weeks Out)
Mile 18 working on staying in it
When the Work Starts to Feel Real
It’s Saturday afternoon, and I’m wrapping up one of those rare training weeks where things feel like they’re starting to click — the kind of week that reminds me the work is taking hold. My legs feel stronger, my stride more durable, my confidence deeper, and even the fatigue feels purposeful — a sign that adaptation is happening.
After twenty years of marathon training — and only really following structured plans for the past eight — I’m finally starting to understand, intuitively, the balance between pushing and pulling back. I’m learning what it truly means to stay committed to a goal while still listening to my body and mind. Maybe I’m a slow learner, but honestly, that seems to be true for a lot of lessons I’ve been learning lately — not just about running, but about life.
The middle stretch of marathon training has a rhythm all its own. The excitement you felt when you first hit “register” and glanced over that daunting training plan has faded, and race day still feels far off — fifty days away, to be exact. The plan is familiar now, sometimes even monotonous, and that’s exactly where the real growth happens.
Motivation doesn’t carry you through these miles — consistency does. Showing up, leaning on routine, and trusting the process are what keep you moving forward. Even when it’s hard. Even when it’s just about putting one foot in front of the other and getting it done. Don’t think — just do.
It’s in these miles that you start to notice the paradox of feeling stronger and more tired at the same time. That’s the mark of honest training: stress plus recovery equals adaptation. Push too hard without rest, and you risk burnout or injury. Take it too easy, and progress stalls.
The same is true mentally. Growth comes from challenging yourself and then giving yourself permission to pause, breathe, and rebuild. Training is both an art and a science — it takes structure, but also the wisdom to know when to trust your body and when to simply do the work anyway.
For me, as a Masters-aged runner, this is the first training block where I’ve truly embraced quality over quantity. Running doubles just isn’t as effective anymore, and I’m finally okay with that. These days, a slow, wandering dog walk after work does more for my recovery than squeezing in an extra four miles. That walk also gives me space to process the day — to put a boundary between the energy I give my clients and the presence I aim to bring when I’m with my family. Not to mention, I’m working hard enough on my runs that I’m in no way tempted to sneak in extra miles like a younger Christy might have.
Recovery practices like a massage every other week, eating enough (and often), hydrating well, prioritizing sleep, and saying no to new commitments aren’t indulgences — they’re necessary. They’re what keep me healthy, consistent, and strong enough to handle the next block of work.
Protecting What Matters
Commitment means being clear about what really matters in a particular season of life. That means narrowing your focus to the things that truly deserve your time and energy. For me right now, that’s time with my husband and our kids, meaningful work, rest, and quality training.
It has also meant temporarily stepping back from some time with friends or social activities to protect recovery and family priorities. It’s not because those connections aren’t important — they absolutely are — but right now, my energy has limits. I know those relationships and moments will return after the race, and I’ll be able to show up for them more fully.
In this season, prioritizing what matters looks like prioritizing family dinners, showing up for my daughters’ volleyball games, helping with homework, and being intentional about connecting — which, let’s be honest, can be its own challenge when parenting teenagers who are increasingly focused on their friends. And yes, it also looks like long walks with our two crazy Blue Heelers who always manage to keep us grounded and laughing, even on the tired days.
The rest — the noise, the extras, the nonessential “shoulds” — can wait. Just like it’s important to schedule your training and other priorities, it’s equally important to schedule and protect recovery: letting go of unnecessary commitments, honoring fatigue, and prioritizing rest, nutrition, and hydration.
But this isn’t just a training lesson. It’s a reminder to be intentional about where we put our time and energy — to set boundaries that reflect our values, to say yes to what moves us forward, and no to what doesn’t serve us.
Finding Joy in the Routine
One way I make this middle-miles phase more sustainable is by giving each day something different to look forward to. On workout days, I’ll plan a playlist or test a new gel before a session. I’ve also started looking forward to the expected effort and discomfort of my speed, tempo, or hill sessions — knowing what they should feel like, remembering that effort is the point, and embracing that discomfort as part of progress that is essential for growth.
Sunrise Rituals
The midweek long run that starts before I’m fully awake — which I used to dread — has become something I genuinely look forward to. I stumble out the door after a quick espresso in the dark and finish with the sun rising over the mountains around me. As I move through the quiet, hilly streets, I watch the neighborhood slowly wake up: the same older man rolling his garbage cans, the kids walking to the bus along my final stretch.
This training block alone, I’ve seen moose on this run and nearly collided with a deer in the dark. Beyond the scenery and surprises, I’ve come to deeply value the large chunk of time it gives me to reflect on all areas of my life. Those ninety minutes with myself provide far more than aerobic benefit — they’re a space to think, process, and reset.
Running With Friends
Once a week, I meet two neighbor friends — other moms — for a mellow run. Sometimes we swap stories about parenting or upcoming races, and sometimes we simply move quietly together, step for step, in comfortable silence. Not every run with friends needs to be chatty, and I really value that balance: we’re all doing something we love together, yet still in our own world.
Weekend Long Runs
On weekends, my long runs are often shared with my husband, my coach on a bike beside me, offering pacing guidance that always helps. “High knees, deep breaths, focus on your form” — the simple cues I’ve internalized from him over the years — naturally return to me on race day, grounding me when I’ve started to lose focus.
The Lessons in Every Mile
Each run brings something different — a little joy, a fresh perspective, or a lesson learned. But let’s be honest: not every mile is going to feel great. Some are heavy, monotonous, or just plain hard. And that’s okay. Even in those tough miles, there’s value in showing up, putting one foot in front of the other, and learning a bit more about patience, resilience, and the simple power of sticking with it.
It’s exactly that contrast — the hard and the joyful, the effort and the ease — that makes the really meaningful moments on the run feel so much richer.
Zooming In and Zooming Out
This phase of training reminds me a lot of the tough middle miles in a marathon. You’ve invested too much since the start to back off completely, but you’re not yet close enough to see the finish line. You’re deep in the work — managing effort, fatigue, and focus — finding ways to stay engaged and present.
And this is where the mental skills we build alongside the physical ones matter most: knowing when to zoom in and when to zoom out.
When the distance ahead feels overwhelming, zoom in. Focus on the next mile (or the next marker you see on the road if a mile feels too far), the next breath, the next good choice. Presence is what carries you forward.
When fatigue, doubt, or frustration creep in, zoom out. Remember the weeks of work already behind you. Look at the bigger story — how much you’ve built, adapted, and grown.
That rhythm — shifting between focus and perspective — is what carries you through the middle miles. In running and in life.
Final Thoughts and beyond running
The middle miles are rarely glamorous. They’re quiet, honest, and often exhausting. But they’re also where endurance — physical, mental, and emotional — really takes root. This is the work beneath the work: showing up, adjusting, protecting what matters, and learning along the way.
This is how we build endurance — not just as runners, but as people — one steady, imperfect, meaningful mile at a time.
Reflection for the Middle Miles
Where in your own training — or life — do you feel caught in the “middle miles,” when motivation fades but the finish line still feels far away?
What habits or recovery practices actually help you sustain consistency over the long haul?
How can you clarify what really matters in this season of life — and what might need to wait?
When was the last time you paused to notice the quiet rituals or rhythms in your routine that keep you grounded?
