It was a nondescript Tuesday morning, and I was feeling quite forlorn. I told my wife, “I feel directionless. Like I have no goal. Nothing to direct my daily plan.” Her response slapped me like I was Chris Rock at an awards show. “You just finished your marathon and you have nothing driving you. You need a goal.” I laughed, but she was right. I had no target. No reason to structure my day with intention.
You. Need. A. Goal.
I’ve written about what goals are and are not before, but this was the first time I had come face to face with the reality of an outcome informing my entire direction. Here’s my story.
The Goal
I wanted to become a healthier runner in 2025. That meant one thing: finish a marathon in under 5 hours, injury-free.
In 2023, I ran my first marathon. I crossed the finish line in 5 hours and 50 minutes, wrecked by shin splints. I could barely stand after the race. I couldn’t run for two weeks. I finished, sure — but I didn’t finish well.
This time, I set a new standard for success. I wanted to train well, run strong, enjoy myself, and feel proud of how I got there.
I chose the 2025 St. Jude Rock 'n' Roll Marathon in Nashville. My friends warned me - April heat, relentless hills - and called it a one-and-done kind of race. But I had to find out for myself.
So I went all in.
Living the Goal
Once I had the goal - run an injury-free, sub-5-hour marathon - it shaped everything.
I used the Garmin watch my wife gave me for Christmas to build a custom training plan: five days of running, two days of rest, with sleep and recovery as non-negotiables. I tested new shoes for my flat feet. I read up on form and technique. I even picked Unbroken for a leadership book club — purely because it was about a runner.
Every decision was filtered through that singular lens. Even my prioritization framework - the Concentric Circles - bent around one outcome: crossing the finish line strong, seeing a 4 in the hours column, grabbing a banana, and wearing that sweet finisher medal.
It wasn’t perfect. Sometimes my training schedule clashed with family time. But most days? I woke up with purpose instead of feeling directionless. I knew what the day was for.
A morning run meant recovery and refueling the rest of the day.
An afternoon run meant carefully managing meetings and skipping lunch to avoid that awful, mid-run churn.
Sleep became sacred. No rest, no progress. So I started designing my evenings for a smooth landing into slumberville.
Everything - meals, meetings, conversations - became a choice:
Does this help me move closer to the goal?
Application
When you and your team have a clear outcome, it becomes the filter for everything:
“What should we work on today?”
“How do we handle this unexpected issue?”
“Does this meeting even need to happen?”
A clear outcome gives daily work meaning. You’re not just completing tasks — you’re making meaningful progress.
You still have to do the hard things. You still need to adjust and collaborate. But now, your learning and effort are aligned. The work has a why.
That’s what vision does. It connects today’s grind to tomorrow’s gain — something your whole team can see, believe in, and move toward.
Landing the Plane
All of that training paid off. I went out that day in downtown Nashville and let every moment of preparation flow into my run.
With about 3 miles left in the race, the 5 Hour pace runner caught up to me. I knew all I had to do was keep up with him and I had a chance to hit my metric — a sub 5 hour marathon. There was only one problem. I had to go to the bathroom. I made one last pit stop — and when I came out, the pacer was gone. I let go of the metric and focused on finishing strong. That’s exactly what I did.
I finished the race, with my wife cheering me at the finish line, grabbed my finisher medal and banana, and walked the mile and a half to the car. No injuries. No shin splints. No regrets.
Five minutes later, I got the text from one of my running friends, “Dude, SUB 5! WELL DONE!” I couldn’t believe my eyes. I checked my Strava running app and, there it was. 4 hours and 59 minutes. Almost an entire hour off my previous marathon. My hands shook. Tears welled up. I couldn’t believe it.
That’s the power of running towards a goal.
I've re-read this post about half a dozen times now and I still tear up towards the end.