The Race You Run Alone

This past weekend, my daughter Aspen ran the Santa Barbara Half Marathon.

1 hour and 47 minutes.
A personal record.
A race entirely her own.

For years, Aspen’s focus wasn’t running. It was dance.
Discipline. Precision. Art in motion.
But recently, she made the transition to running and she has done so with the same grace, grit, and determination she has always carried.

She made the cross-country team for her college, Westmont.
She ran the full Chicago Marathon with me and multiple half marathons in Austin.
But this race was different.

This one wasn’t about a team or a training partner or even running beside her dad.
This one was hers.

Her pace.
Her focus.
Her finish line.

The Lesson

There is a point in every journey when no one else can carry you.

You can train beside others. You can learn from them. You can be encouraged by them.
But the moment always comes when you must decide how badly you want it and prove it through action.

Aspen did that.
She showed what happens when preparation meets presence.
When the years of quiet discipline, from dance studios to early morning runs, merge into a single moment of execution.

That is the real win.

Becoming

Watching her reminded me of something I’ve learned over and over again.
You do not rise to the level of your goals.
You rise to the level of your habits, your standards, and your self-trust.

Aspen didn’t become a runner by declaring it.
She became one by training, showing up, and building the identity of a runner, one run at a time.

And that is what the 10-Year Letter is really about.
Becoming the person your future self will thank you for.
Not through intensity, but through consistency.

Your Turn

We all have our own race to run.
For some, it is building a business.
For others, it is healing, leading, or becoming who you said you would be.

No one else can run it for you.
Trust your training.
Stay present.
Finish strong.

Write your 10-Year Letter  and make this next chapter yours.