Letting go of goals that no longer serve me

I'm now making marathon training my entire personality

At the start of the year, I set a goal to run one race every month.

It felt like a fun challenge. Enough structure to keep me motivated, enough novelty to keep things interesting. I was going to make a shadow box of all 12 medals I collected throughout the year. That’s also how I ended up running Birmingham’s toughest 5K last month.

But this month, I'm intentionally breaking the streak.

I could’ve run a 10K race this weekend. It was local. It lined up perfectly with my training schedule. But instead, I ran 6 miles on the treadmill upstairs.

Why?

Because I’m just getting reacquainted with longer distances—this was my longest run since January—and I wanted to control for as many variables as I could. No heat. No hills. No race-day nerves, worrying about how I’d rank compared to others. Just a consistent pace, a fan aimed at my face, and the ability to stop if something didn’t feel right.

This is what training looks like now.

And it made me realize: the race-a-month goal no longer serves me. Not because I’m slacking off. Not because I can’t do it. But because I’m focused on something bigger—marathon training. Marathon training is as much mental as it is physical. I’m listening to my body. Focusing on my food intake. Building consistency, not chasing checkboxes. (Okay, I’m checking off my runs in the Run with Hal app, but that’s the extent of my checkboxes.)

Sometimes we hold onto goals because we don’t want to “quit.” I have a strong tendency to push myself to follow through on anything, even if it’s no longer serving me. Even if it’s actively harming me. (Ask my husband how long he was telling me to quit my job.)

But this isn’t quitting.

This is growth.

It’s easy to forget that goals are tools, not obligations. They’re meant to guide us, not guilt-trip us. And the version of me who made that race-a-month rule wasn’t training for a marathon. She just wanted to love running again.

I still do. Which is exactly why I’m letting go.

As an added bonus, marathon training is forcing me to slow down. Both literally and figuratively.

Training runs are meant to be slower than your race pace. But it’s hard not to fight that. My pride wants to push. My body wants to build steadily. 12:46/mi isn’t a fast pace by any means, but running 6 miles without diverging from that pace is what I’m celebrating. Learning to honor the latter and embrace my pace has been its own form of growth.

So here’s your gentle reminder: you’re allowed to change the plan. Especially when the new version of you needs something different.