For as long as I can remember, I’ve set myself physical challenges: something that will stretch me — something that requires commitment, discipline, focus, keeps me healthy, and will give me a sense of satisfaction and pride once completed.

Over time, I’ve built a sense of confidence in what it takes to prepare. I thought I understood the formula: build distance, add intensity, layer in some strength work, and just keep going!

However, this time feels different. 

This challenge is bigger (no, I’m not sharing what …just yet!), and for the first time, I decided to work with a coach — I’m not getting younger, and this one is a stretch, so I want to make sure I arrive at the start line fit, well and ready. 

I also suspected that having someone to answer to might change how I show up over the months of training.

After just two weeks, I’m surprised by what I’m learning. Not just about training — but about myself, and about leadership.

The first shift, and the most unexpected, has been about pace. My default setting — in training and in life — is to squeeze in as much as possible and go as hard as I can. 

It feels productive. It feels like progress. But, what I’m learning is that to build stamina and endurance, I need to slow down; deliberately reduce my heart rate and sustain a pace that, at times, feels too slow. 

That is a new insight for me, and I can’t help but wonder where else in my life I might achieve more, be more resilient or sustain my energy for longer if I slow down/reduce the intensity?

The second shift has been around what I previously saw as ‘extra’ strength and conditioning; in my mind, it has always been a good thing to do, and yet it doesn’t feel like the most important bit; it’s the bonus thing I do if I have time, and I never do! 

Now I’m seeing it differently. It’s not an add-on; it is the session, and if I don’t do this, I’m unlikely to make the start line fit and well (if at all!). It’s foundational. And again it makes me think: how often do we treat the very things that underpin our effectiveness — thinking time, preparation, developing others, building relationships — as optional, when in fact they are the real work?

Then there is consistency. I’ve realised that missing a session because I don’t feel like going out in the rain, and telling myself I’ll make up for it later, simply doesn’t work. There is no shortcut. It’s about showing up — again and again. 

I’ve always believed that leadership is not something we turn on and off. We show ourselves as a leader every day, whether we intend to or not and whether the impact is helpful or not. And consistency matters; if we don’t show up as the leader we want to be on a given day, we can’t simply compensate for it later. It requires ongoing commitment, energy and intentionality.

And finally, I’ve become more attuned to signals. A small pain, a niggle, even a blister — these are easy to ignore in the moment. The temptation is to ‘push through’.  Now, I’m beginning to understand that these signals are worth paying attention to, and the type of niggle could indicate something different. Left unexamined, they can lead to bigger problems down the line. That’s also prompted another question: what are the equivalent signals in teams and organisations? The small frustrations, the minor tensions, the things that feel inconvenient to address — what might they be signalling for us? And what becomes possible if we pay attention earlier?

What I’m realising is that this challenge will not just be a test of fitness, but also it is reshaping how I think about performance — my own, and that of people I work with. Perhaps the real discipline is not in pushing harder, but in approaching things differently: treating the fundamentals as essential, slowing down to build resilience, tuning in to our own heart rate, showing up consistently, and exploring the signals that are always around us…oh, and the value of a coach!

An update to follow so watch this space!