Running through the pain
If we don't take action now, we'll settle for nothing later | Vol. 80
Welcome to volume 80 of Move Fast, Think Slow. There are a few new readers joining us so let me re-introduce myself. I’m an optimistic advertising exec in the search of the perfect run. MF/TS is a weekly newsletter focused Advertising, culture, and running. The last dispatch was on How I tell my Mom what I do for a living (in advertising) and before that the was a dispatch on Paradox of Democracy and AI.
This week, we talk running, pain, and action.
In six weeks I will let it rip for 13.1 miles (aka a Half-Marathon) for my first ever NYC Half. The route is awesome, it kicks off in Brooklyn, turns into Manhattan, and wraps up in Central Park. A new personal best time is within sight and I am gearing up to give it my all! 😤
At this point, having new races on the calendar is how I cope, and how I aim to thrive. Without a race on the calendar, I don’t feel so good. And unfortunately, that can slide into every other aspect of my life.
In every training cycle, there are three types of runs that are mandatory:
1 speed session
1 half-marathon pace session
1 long run
All the running science and gurus say that if you want better race times then this is the way. The only catch is if you do this for weeks on end, you are signing up for guaranteed discomfort. You are signing up to run through pain.
THE JOURNEY WITH PAIN
I spent so much of my life “mastering” pain, that I am unsure if I know how to detect it at first brush. My mind will question, is this real pain or is it just discomfort?
As a boy, if I wanted to play sports with my older brother, I had to get over the shock of pain. We played basketball and a lot of hockey. If I wanted to be competitive with him, I had to get over the discomfort of being dominated, and at times roughed up by someone seven years my senior.
Then there was the pain of my scholastic challenges as a young child with learning disabilities, known today as neurodivergence (which sounds so much cooler by the way), as I had to get over the pain of not getting the right answers to the questions all the time. There was the pain of questioning my own intelligence.
As a teenager, I was schooled on pain by playing football at one of the best high school programs in Austin, Texas. I was taught to embrace the pain of the workouts, the pain of the weight room, and the pain of the game itself.
As a young adult, there was the pain of being a financial failure, and the anxiety of wondering if I would ever get it right.
So thing about pain. These heavy moments of discomfort is this: I am now so familiar with the feeling, I don’t shrink or run from it. In fact, I now wonder, do I purposely run towards it?
RUNNING THROUGH THE PAIN
Any runner who trains for marathons knows what it means to run through constant discomfort. That’s core to the training. It’s how to build resilience, strength, and stamina. You do these workouts even though you’re sore. Even though, at times, the motivation is down.
The world pushes us around all the time. For some, more so than others. And at times, the force varies. Constantly being sore isn’t just about training to marathons, it is how most of us constantly experience life.
Life throws waves at us like it does when we are in the ocean. The waves are constantly tossing us around. But, our grace, our beauty, are our potential are really about what we do when the waves come crashing in.
Lately, I find myself letting out a little cry while I run. Sometimes I put extra mustard on the high effort workouts. I’ve been in a state of grieving. There’s been anger. The running helps, but it’s not enough. It is not helping me manage the pain like it typically does.
What am I in pain about?
I’m in pain about losing American narrative of my youth.
The pain of how naive I was about the prevalence of American fascism, especially for those of the minority populations, which is now turned all the way up.
The pain of watching so many people who I thought were the heroes in culture, business, sports, and the arts stay silent in the face of absolute immoral behavior and everyday horrors.
The pain of watching journalist be held hostage by capitalism so they can’t call out out the injustices with the truthful urgency that is required.
The pain of having to question, is this the place I should raise my children if the populace and power structures are so immoral?
The running isn’t enough. Now I wonder, do I need to run towards more discomfort in my life, in pursuit of building new systems for generations I will never meet. Is it time I push towards a new type of building block?
RUNNING TOWARDS THE FIRE
I look at every workout as an opportunity to shed old skin and renew my armor. To throw away old maps and start charting out new paths off of new blank canvases. The discomfort doesn’t help, unless I use it to move towards new spaces in spirit of a revolution. The pain can be useful. It can be the signal that it’s time to lean in even more.
What good is the discomfort, if I don’t activate it towards pushing to not just new personal records, but new revolutionary ideas. Ideas that build humans up instead of tearing them down. The offer up enlightenment instead of darkness.
The truth is comfort is the enemy of progress. I run through the pain, in search for new pathways towards ideas and actions I never once considered. The old maps no longer apply.
As Rage Against the Machine’s Zach de la Rocha has said, “anger is a gift".” He also said, “we don’t need the keys, we’ll break it.”
VISUALS OF THE WEEK
Go forth.
Stay safe.
Ride the wave.
-Mitch









