Why Experimentation and Identity Matter More Than Motivation

Last week, we talked about the first two stages of becoming a consistent runner.

If you haven’t read Part 1 yet, I encourage you to start there. We covered The Motivation Stage and The Reality Check the point where many women convince themselves they’re simply “not runners.”

If you recognized yourself in Stage Two, I hope you walked away with one important realization:

Nothing has gone wrong.

Missing a run doesn’t make you inconsistent. Life getting busy doesn’t mean you lack discipline. And struggling doesn’t mean you aren’t meant to run.

It simply means you’ve reached the stage where motivation is no longer enough. But here’s the part that I think is the most exciting.

If you can move through Stage Two instead of quitting there, you enter a completely different phase of your running journey.

This is where running stops feeling like something you have to do. It starts becoming something you actually enjoy.

Stage Three: The Experiment

I think this is the stage that changes everything. Not because running suddenly becomes easy. It doesn’t.

You’ll still have hard runs. You’ll still have days when you’d rather stay in bed. You’ll still question yourself from time to time.

The difference is that your mindset begins to change. Instead of constantly asking, “Am I doing this right?” you start asking, “What works best for me?”

That might sound like a small shift. It’s not.

It’s one of the biggest turning points in becoming a consistent runner.

You stop looking for the perfect plan.

When most people begin running, they’re searching for the perfect formula. They wonder if they should run three days a week or five. Whether they should run before work or after dinner. Whether they should run continuously or take walk breaks. Whether slower runs are “good enough.”

They assume that somewhere out there is a magical training plan that works for everyone.

But after years of running I can confidently tell you that no such plan exists.

The best running plan isn’t the one someone on Instagram swears by. It’s the one you’ll actually follow. That’s a very different thing.

Curiosity is more powerful than perfection.

One of my favourite coaching questions is incredibly simple.

“What did you learn from that run?”

Notice I didn’t ask whether it was a good run.

Or whether you hit your pace.

Or whether you followed your training plan perfectly.

I asked what you learned.

Because every run teaches you something. Maybe you discover that you’re stronger than you thought. Maybe you realize running first thing in the morning works far better than trying to squeeze it in after work. Maybe you notice that eating a small snack before your run gives you more energy.

Or maybe you finally admit that running hard every single time isn’t actually helping you enjoy running. 

None of those discoveries are failures. They’re data. And collecting that data is how you build a running habit that fits your life instead of someone else’s.

This is where I discovered the run-walk method.

If you’ve been following me for a while, you probably know that I’m a huge believer in the run-walk method.

Not because it’s easier. Because it’s smarter. But I didn’t start there.

Like many beginners, I thought becoming a “real runner” meant running continuously from start to finish.

Every time I had to walk, I felt like I had failed. Eventually, I stopped trying to prove something and started experimenting instead.

What if I planned my walk breaks instead of waiting until I was exhausted?

What if walking wasn’t giving up?

What if it was simply another strategy?

That one experiment changed my relationship with running.

It allowed me to run farther, recover better, and actually enjoy the process. 

There isn’t one right way to be a runner.

This might be one of the biggest misconceptions in the running world.

We tend to think there’s a checklist.

Real runners…

run fast.

never walk. 

run every day.

love every workout.

But if you’ve spent any time around experienced runners, you’ll quickly realize none of that is true. Some runners love trails. Others love the road. Some listen to podcasts. Others enjoy complete silence. Some run marathons. Some are happiest running 5Ks. Some use walk breaks their entire running lives. 

They’re all runners.

The goal isn’t to fit someone else’s definition. It’s to build a version of running that fits your life.

Confidence isn’t something you find.

It’s something you build.

I think we often treat confidence as though it’s something we’re supposed to have before we begin.

“I’ll sign up for the race once I feel confident.”

“I’ll call myself a runner once I can run 5K without stopping.”

“I’ll believe in myself once I’m faster.”

But confidence doesn’t usually work that way. Confidence comes from collecting evidence. Every time you finish a run you didn’t feel like doing…You collect evidence.

Every time you recover after missing a week…You collect evidence.

Every time you adjust your plan instead of giving up altogether…You collect evidence.

Little by little, your brain starts believing a different story. Maybe I am someone who can stick with this.

Stage Four: The Identity Shift

This stage is difficult to describe because it doesn’t happen all at once.

There’s no finish line. No medal. No magical moment where someone officially declares you a runner.

Instead, one day you notice something has quietly changed. You stop asking yourself whether you’re a runner.

You simply are one.

Running becomes part of who you are.

When you’re starting out, every run feels like a decision.

Should I go today?

Can I really do this?

Am I making progress?

Those questions slowly become less frequent.

Not because running becomes effortless.

Because it becomes familiar. You no longer debate whether you’ll come back after a missed week. You know you will. You don’t panic when a vacation interrupts your training. You simply adjust. You stop trying to be perfect. You become resilient. And that’s a much more valuable skill.

The biggest difference isn’t physical.

People often assume experienced runners are simply fitter. Of course, fitness improves over time. But I don’t think that’s what separates them from beginners.

The biggest difference is trust. Experienced runners trust themselves. They trust that one bad run doesn’t erase months of progress. They trust that a missed workout isn’t the end of the story. They trust that motivation will return if they keep showing up. That trust isn’t something they were born with. It’s something they earned by repeatedly coming back.

Looking back at my own journey

If I could go back and talk to the version of myself who was convinced she wasn’t athletic enough to run, I wouldn’t tell her to work harder.

I wouldn’t tell her to become more disciplined.

I’d tell her to be patient. I’d tell her that the confidence she’s chasing won’t appear overnight. It will grow one run at a time. I’d tell her that walking isn’t cheating. That slower running still counts. That missing a workout doesn’t erase progress.

And I’d tell her that one day, she’ll stop introducing herself as “someone who’s trying to get into running.” She’ll simply be someone who runs.

That identity shift changes everything.

So… what stage are you in?

Maybe you’re still in Stage One, riding the excitement of a new goal.

Maybe you’re deep in Stage Two, wondering if you should even keep going.

Or maybe you’ve started experimenting and realizing that your running journey doesn’t have to look like anyone else’s.

Wherever you are, remember this: Every consistent runner has been there.

None of us skipped straight to Stage Four.

We all had to move through the messy middle.

And that’s actually good news. Because it means you’re not behind. You’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.