The last time I wrote here was October 27, 2025.

That’s almost three months of silence.

Not because I quit.
Not because I ran out of goals.
Not because Mental Miles went away.

Because I hit a mental glut.

Same goals. Same fire. Just… quiet.

Winter Miles Are Different

It’s January now. Cold. Dark. Miserable in the way only winter running can be.

Outdoor runs? Trash.
Ice. Wind. Frozen lungs. No rhythm.

So most of my miles lately are treadmill miles. Five to eight kilometers per run. Six or seven days a week. Not glamorous. Not exciting. Just work.

I also finally started adding strength training. Not going crazy—but enough to know it matters. Because if I’m serious about this next marathon, strength isn’t optional anymore. It’s part of the deal.

The training plan has been relentless. Marathon prep has a way of taking over your brain. It squeezes everything else into the margins. And somewhere in there, writing slipped.

But the work never stopped.

Why I Started Running (The Part I Don’t Gloss Over)

I started running about four years ago.

Not because it was trendy.
Not because I wanted a medal.
Not because I “found myself.”

I started because I was breaking.

Panic attacks. Real ones. The kind that make you think you’re dying. Chest tight. Heart racing. Convinced this is it.

At the same time, I was losing weight—too much weight. Blood work. Follow-ups. Then the call that still makes my stomach drop when I think about it:

The oncology department wanted to see me.

If you’ve never gotten that call, I hope you never do. It messes with your head in a way that’s hard to explain.

Everything stacked at once. Fear. Uncertainty. No control.

So yeah—things cracked.

The First 5K

My wife was already running then. She and a friend had a regular 5K route. I was still just walking.

One night I decided I was going to run it. No pace goal. No plan. Just one rule:

Don’t stop.

Thirty seconds in, my brain was screaming, this isn’t happening.
Another thirty seconds passed. Still awful. Still wanted to stop.

But I didn’t.

I hit the halfway turnaround and realized something scary and incredible at the same time:

I was still running.

That confidence stacked fast. Faster than my legs ever could.

When I got back to my house, my watch said I was short—about 0.2 km from a full 5K.

So I sprinted. Or what passed for a sprint back then. It damn near killed me.

But I hit the number.

And when I stopped, something else stopped too.

The physical stress left my body—and it dragged a whole pile of other shit out with it.

That was the moment.

That’s when the addiction started.

Four Years Later

Since that night:

• I’ve run one full marathon
• Finished in about 5:10
• Not fast—and I don’t care
• The goal was to finish
• And I did

Now I’m signed up for marathon number two in May.

Same distance.
Different mindset.

This time, I want to be faster.

But here’s the thing—that’s not even the biggest goal anymore.

The Idea That Wouldn’t Leave Me Alone

I spend a lot of time on treadmills. Like most runners in winter.

And I hate them.

Not physically—mentally.

Half the TVs don’t work.
The other half play the same garbage on repeat.
You can’t look around without feeling awkward.

Thirty minutes feels like an hour.

But there’s one thing that always changes the run.

Another runner.

Someone gets on the treadmill beside me, and without saying a word, we start racing. Back and forth. Push. Respond. No ego. No talking. Just shared effort.

That’s engagement.

That’s connection.

And that’s when it hit me.

Mental Miles Run Club

This is the first time I’m saying this publicly.

Mental Miles Run Club.

A local run club here in Quispamsis.

Think spin class—but for runners.

Self-propelled curved treadmills.
Big immersive screens.
Virtual routes.
Live stats.
Community challenges.
Free runs.
Special events.
Virtual races.

Not just running next to people—running with them.

It’s not a gimmick.
It’s not a side hustle.
It’s a real business—done properly or not at all.

Behind the scenes, we’re getting the numbers right. The financials. The logistics. The boring but critical stuff.

Because this has legs.

I believe runners here will latch onto it. I believe it fills a gap. And honestly—I believe it fits the life I want to build.

A Different Way to Work

I don’t hate my current work.

But I don’t love it either.

What I do love is training. Watching people train. Thinking about better ways to train. Creating environments where people push themselves without being told to.

I want to surround myself with people who show up to get better.

If someone is willing to step on a treadmill for 45 minutes and run through a virtual New York City in January, they’re trying. And that matters.

That’s my crowd.

Season 3 Starts Here

Same goals.
More clarity.
Bigger vision.

2026 is about momentum—physical, mental, and professional.

This is the next adventure.

And it’s just getting started.

— Mental Miles