This is embarrassing, but he we go! 

A few summers ago, I flew into Minneapolis and drove up to Duluth to run Grandma’s Marathon. It was a great race. Friendly people, beautiful course along the lake, and the perfect summer marathon. 

The moment I remember most didn’t happen during the run. It happened on the drive out of Minneapolis.

I crossed a small bridge over what looked like a small river. Nothing remarkable. Then I saw the sign: Mississippi River.

I couldn’t believe it.

I grew up in the South, and the Mississippi I knew was wide and powerful. I remembered driving over it on a work trip to our P&G plant in Cape Girardeau, Missouri. The river stretched across the horizon. The river in Minneapolis looked nothing like that. It looked almost modest like a powerful stream. I asked a waitress at dinner if that really was the Mississippi. She looked at me the way you look at someone who asked a question with an obvious answer.

Of course it was the Mississippi. It just started small up north. All rivers do. They gather strength over time.

Most runners think progress should look like the big version of the river — strong, steady, powerful. But the early miles never look like that. They feel small. They feel ordinary. They don’t look like they matter.

Then they add up. Week after week. Month after month. The miles begin to collect the way streams feed into a river. And before you realize it, something that once felt narrow starts to widen.

If your training feels small right now, that doesn’t mean it’s going nowhere. It means you’re at the headwaters. Keep going. The strength comes downstream.

Best wishes on chasing your running goals,
George