How a chaotic first half-marathon taught me that mindset, not willpower, changes everything, not just how I run.
Today, for the first time, I’m watching the Great North Run from the sidelines. As I write this, thousands of runners are making final preparations for their run. I should be among them, but injury has other plans.
Instead, I’ll be spectating. Something I’ve never done before. My other half will be running alone for his first time too, making it feel even stranger to be in Newcastle but not running on GNR day.
And as I think about watching others experience what I went through in 2003, it feels like the perfect time to reflect on how that chaotic first half-marathon taught me everything about mindset. Because that race wasn’t just my first Great North Run. It was my first lesson in how the stories you tell yourself shape everything.
How it all began
I was standing in the work bar when someone mentioned they had two charity places for the Great North Run. Without thinking, my friend and I volunteered. I had absolutely no idea what I was signing up for. I blame the lager.
No running experience whatsoever. No training plan. No clue that 13.1 miles was quite far to run. I just thought, ‘that sounds good’.
It was good. It was also a long way. And very hard.
When good intentions meet reality
My ‘training’ was everything you’d expect from someone who didn’t have a clue. I’d run when I felt like it. Which wasn’t often. I didn’t change my diet. I definitely didn’t stop drinking (pints of lager). I was basically wishful thinking with running shoes.
Six weeks before the race, I injured my foot. Instead of resting or getting proper advice, I decided swimming would fix everything. Swimming. For a running race. Makes perfect sense, right?
Race day arrived. I lined up with 47,000 other runners, most of whom actually looked like runners. The starting gun went off, and for nine glorious miles, I felt invincible. I was running the Great North Run. I was a proper runner.
Then mile 9 happened.
My legs turned to jelly. My lungs were on fire. The last four miles became a masterclass in walk-run-walk-run-repeat. I had to rely on willpower to drag myself to the finish line. It worked. Willpower (and some ‘motivational speak’ from my running buddy) got me there.
But here’s what I didn’t understand then: willpower is like a muscle. Use it too much, and it gets exhausted. Build your entire approach around it, and you’ll eventually hit a wall when you need it most.
The run mindset shift that changed everything
As we limped away from the finish line, my friend said, ‘You were talking about doing a marathon. You realise that’s running all the way back, right?’
My response surprised me: ‘No, it’s not running back. It’s keeping going, and it’s the same distance again.’
I didn’t know it then, but that distinction between ‘going back’ and ‘going forward’ changed something for me. Going back feels like retreating. Like undoing progress. Going forward feels like building. Like continuing a journey.
That mindset shift was the first crack in my old way of thinking. I just didn’t know what it meant yet. Or where it would ultimately take me.
Fifteen years of running with the wrong mindset
What followed was around 15 years of classic stop-start running. I’d get excited, train for a few weeks (badly), maybe sign up for a race, drag myself through it, then disappear from running for months. Rinse and repeat.
I did run the New York Marathon the following year (2004). Slightly better trained but still chaotic. A few more half marathons, some 10Ks, another marathon. But every single time, same pattern: burst of enthusiasm, inconsistent training, willpower my way through race day, crash back to nothing.
Sound familiar?
This wasn’t just my run mindset. This was my mindset with everything. Get excited and super focused, burn through whatever reserves I had, crash when the initial rush wore off. Repeat. Exhausting.
My internal dialogue was all wrong. ‘Will I run today?’ ‘Can I be bothered?’ ‘Maybe I should…’ Everything was optional. Everything was a negotiation with myself.
Meanwhile, I was overweight, lethargic, couldn’t concentrate. I felt like I was just going through the motions. I’d tried diets, fitness kicks, productivity hacks. Nothing stuck. I was treating the symptoms, not addressing the stories I was telling myself.
The mindset breakthrough
Everything changed when I finally understood what that ‘going forward v going back’ moment really meant. It wasn’t just about my run mindset. It was about how I framed challenges in my head.
Instead of seeing setbacks as failures, I started seeing them as part of the journey forward. Instead of negotiating with myself every day about whether to run, I changed the question entirely.
‘When will I run today?’ instead of ‘Will I run today?’
That single word changed everything. When you remove the option of not doing something, your brain stops wasting energy on the decision and starts focusing on execution.
I committed to running every single day. That was almost 1,700 days ago. Haven’t missed a day since.
What I learned about run mindset
Fifteen years of stop-start running followed by almost 1,700 days of consistency taught me this:
Your internal dialogue shapes everything. The stories you tell yourself? The language you use? It matters more than you could ever imagine. ‘When will I?’ is fundamentally different from ‘Will I?’
Mindset beats willpower every time. I thought I lacked willpower. In reality, I was lacking the right mental framework. Willpower is brilliant when you need it – like mile 9 of a half marathon. But it’s terrible as a daily strategy.
Forward is the only direction that matters. Every setback, every bad day, every moment when you want to quit – you’re still moving forward as long as you don’t stop completely. Progress isn’t linear, but it is directional.
Remove the negotiation. The moment you make something optional in your head, you’ve already lost half the battle. Change the question from ‘Will I?’ to ‘When will I?’ and watch what happens.
Small consistent actions compound. My five-minute daily runs grew naturally into longer runs, strength training, better nutrition, eventually coaching others. But it started with changing how I thought about consistency.
Your patterns follow your thoughts. Change how you think about something, and your behaviour follows. Keep thinking the same way, and you’ll keep getting the same results.
Beyond the finish line
So, as I watch thousands of runners cross the Tyne Bridge for the first time, I’ll be thinking about mindset. Some will have framed the race as an adventure. Others as something to survive. Both will finish, but only one approach is sustainable for whatever comes next.
That 2003 Great North Run taught me something crucial: willpower gets you through the chaos, but mindset gets you through life. The goal isn’t to never need willpower. It’s to build mental frameworks so you’re not relying on willpower for everything.
Whether you’re lining up for your first Great North Run, training for a 5K, or trying to create positive change in your life, the principle is the same. Change the stories you tell yourself. Change the questions you ask. And, change the direction you’re facing.
The person who used willpower to get through those final four miles in 2003 and the person writing this after almost 1,700 consecutive days of running are the same person. The difference isn’t more willpower. The difference is a completely different mindset.
Your breakthrough moment might not involve running. It might be the project you keep putting off, the morning routine you can’t stick to, or the goal you keep starting and stopping. But the principle remains: stop negotiating with yourself. Start moving forward.
Because the finish line isn’t where the real victory happens. The real victory is in the decision to keep going forward, day 1,674, and day 1,675, and every step that gets you there.
To everyone running the Great North Run – enjoy every step, especially mile 9. And remember, if you hit the wall, you’re not going backwards. You’re still going forward.
