These past few months have wrecked me. Constant sickness, next to no sleep, and two tiny kids that need us around the clock. and throughout all, I was still trying to train. I wanted to use this space to share what it’s been like trying to chase big goals in running while navigating the beautiful chaos of fatherhood.

The Cost — What Fatherhood Takes From Running

When asked if fatherhood has improved his basketball performance, Nikola Jokić laughed and replied: "Nah, that cannot help you."

Retweet. On the surface level, it makes no sense. My entire life used to be organized around my running schedule and although I try to keep it that way, we’ve now got two tiny dependents who could care less about track and field. On good days, I wake up somewhere between 6am and 7am to the rumblings of our oldest daughter. I climb up the stairs to get her (stairs at altitude still suck), bring her down to the kitchen for coffee (tea for her) and bagels, then have a little play time. My amazing, gorgeous, brilliant wife (who proofreads these) is generous enough to cover night wakings, so if she’s not up with Rosie already, she’s cashing in on a few extra minutes of precious sleep before I head out. My focus is making sure Ella is fed, dressed and ready for the day. It works, but is far from ideal. Pre-workout stretching, drills, and activations get skipped most mornings.

Usually, my head is pretty clear at practice but due to the two year old sleep regression and our 9 month old still getting up to nurse throughout the night, the mental load of parenting has seeped into those workouts. After the morning rush, I can show up tense and tired, many times running with guilt in my heart, knowing I am getting to do what I love while my wife is at home with two babies.

Midday is a little break. Ella takes a long nap and Rosie’s second nap will occasionally overlap. I am not a big napper but on days that I really need one, I take it. Otherwise, this time is spent doing work (like coaching, bills, and writing this newsletter) or cleaning the house with my wife (how does it get so dirty when we only have two kids?). Regardless, it’s the reset I need before my second run/weights.

Once the girls are up, Sandy with either take them somewhere or we will all play until I head out. Post second run or lift can feel similar to the morning rush, as one of us covers taking care of the kids while the other whips up dinner. I then bring Ella up for bath, reading and bedtime while Sandy handles Rosie’s bedtime routine. If things go wrong, we troubleshoot and figure it out as a team. Cleaning the kitchen is normally something we also tackle together once the babies are down. After that, we get a moment to breathe, pray the rosary, have a little ice cream and bond before tucking in around 9pm.

This is the routine. Is it physically or mentally ideal for pushing your body to its limits on a track? Absolutely not. But it’s not slowing me down either. Running is obviously physical and kids are wear and tear on your body but it’s also mental, and that’s where children give me an edge. Let’s talk about it.

The Gift — What Running Gains From Fatherhood

After his first quick response to the question, Nikola Jokić further elaborated, acknowledging that while fatherhood hasn't enhanced his on-court skills, it has provided him with invaluable perspective: "I like it because I have something at home that is more important than basketball."

Running isn’t just a physical sport. In fact, my best races typically line up with the moments I truly believe I can win over my peak physical form.

One of the most profound dad strength moments was at last years Olympic Trials 10k race. Ella was just old enough to sort of understand what was going on and shout “dada” whenever she saw me pass by. As the race went on, the flashing signs of “this is hot,” “I’m tired,” “you can quit” started to pop up in my brain. But, every lap I could see my wife and daughter in the stands (the 10k is still slow enough you can let your eyes wander a bit) and it moved me. With about a mile to go, things really started to heat up and I wanted to give up every lap. But I had the strangest conviction that I needed to set an example to my one year old daughter, that I was going to give everything I had on the track that day. With every passing lap I kept telling myself, “keep pushing, keep fighting.” With 150m to go I was right next to third place and held on for another 100m before slowing down and collapsing on the track after I kicked it in for fourth. I didn’t qualify for any Olympics or make the podium. But seeing my daughter in the stands next to my wife was the clearest reminder that while medals fade, the pursuit of mastery is an anchor I’ll carry with me long after my running career is over. God gives us all gifts, and we glorify Him by using them to the best of our abilities. I do not know if I would understand this as well if I didn't have children because most of my running career the focus was on medals— which can lead to burnout, injuries, and heartbreak. Now, the focus is on being best version of myself on the track. Perseverance, empathy, hard work, and devotion to the craft, despite obstacles, are the ideals I can instill into my children.

The Balance — How I’m Learning to Hold Both

I have big goals the next 4 years. My children will not hold me back. I am leaning into the perspective that I can be the best runner I have ever been AND the best husband and father. It will take patience and sometimes a reality check— but they are not mutually exclusive

I am learning to hold both of these goals by:

1) Being kind to myself

2) Shaking things off

3) Leaning into the dream

Being kind to myself

I have always struggled with this and it will always be one of my biggest crosses. My siblings got the brunt of it as I was chasing miles in high school. It was hard for me to empathize when people weren’t giving 100% to their craft. I think children have helped with this perspective because being a parent is such a gut check to the ego. Regardless of how selfish or selfless you are, when you have kids— the show isn’t as much about you anymore. Instead of holding myself to the standard of perfection and expertise, I’m learning to look at the whole picture of my fruitful life. Running is now a gift, and I can’t let that beat me down anymore. If I have a great workout, awesome. If I have a bad workout, that’s okay too. Both scenarios I get to come home to loved ones.

Shaking things off

Hindsight is always 2020 but it is HILARIOUS to look back on some of my old training logs when I had a bad workout: I was devastated. Now, I am lucky if I knock a session out of the park once a month! It’s a lot more manageable training, which requires you to trust and shake things off when they don’t go perfectly. I also think that my standard of excellence has shifted to conform to my reality and that means sometimes things will not be perfect and that is okay.

A flexible schedule has been helpful with this as well. I do not need to have the perfect 4:15 double if my wife needs help. I can go a little earlier or later. Practical solutions like doing my easy runs while the girls are out with my wife so I can help when I get back from practice is huge. And grandparents go a long way. Thanks, mom and dad.

I had a rough last few weeks with kids. I still ran 95 miles a week (high for me.) Got in two solid workouts and a long run and two lifts. I didn't feel particularly awesome during any of it, but I also felt solid during a lot of it. The constant chase of the perfect day is an illusion— I prefer to chase the present moment now. Plus, a big body of solid work will beat out a shaky few months of A+ workouts. Kids aren’t perfect, my running won’t ever be perfect, and that’s okay.

Gratitude for the dream

I wake up and get to do what I love everyday. It is not a chore, it is a privilege. And the same goes to raising my children. They are a gift that I want to love as hard as I can. Even when I am tired, burnt out from running or parenting, I know this is exactly what I want to be doing. The amount of time I get with my kids at this young age isn’t something I can get back, and so being able to be there for all the little highlights of first words, eating real food, crawling, etc… has been the greatest gift I could ever ask for. I am leaning into this the next few years because a running career isn’t something I can come back to, just like being a parent of little ones. Gratitude has been a super power for me when I can access it. If I can show up to the starting line with the eagerness to explore my limits and the gratitude I am healthy enough to do that with full support behind me of loved ones, that’s more powerful than any double threshold workout.

As I gear up for the next two months of track season, I’m not just chasing fast times — I’m chasing moments that my daughters might one day understand. I want to inspire them the way that they inspire me. The dream isn’t just to run fast. It’s to run well while being all in at home. That’s what legacy looks like for me now.