The Rhythm That Carries Us Forward
A Year-End Reflection on Pause, Adaptation, and Rising Into What's Next
This past year, I took a major pause in my life.
Not the “take a long weekend and pretend you rested” kind of pause.
A real one. The kind that forces you to confront the pace you’ve been keeping and ask yourself whether it’s actually taking you where you want to go.
And in that pause, everything began to shift.
The space I created gave me room to reflect. To adapt. To rebuild parts of myself, personally and professionally, in ways I never expected.
A Personal Challenge That Changed Everything
In the middle of that pause, I took on the biggest physical and mental challenge of my life: training for a 100-mile ultramarathon.
Nothing about that journey happened quickly.
It unfolded in countless small, intentional steps, day after day, long before anyone saw the finish line.
Over 1500 miles on my legs.
More than 120,000 feet climbed.
Hours spent alone on trails learning to stay present, stay patient, and keep moving even when everything in me wanted to stop.
By the time race day came, the 100 miles, and the recovery that followed, felt almost seamless. Not because the effort wasn’t real, but because the pause had rebuilt me into someone capable of handling it.
Reclaiming My Professional Rhythm
The pause reshaped my work too.
Stepping back gave me clarity I hadn’t realized I’d lost. I found myself returning to the work I care about with more intention, more spirit, and a deeper sense of alignment.
I wasn’t just getting back to business.
I was laying the foundation for what will allow me to push and accelerate in 2026 without burning myself out or losing sight of who I’m becoming.
This long, meaningful pause gave me space to adapt, not react.
To refine, not overhaul.
To step back into my work with the confidence that the next season would demand a stronger, clearer version of me.
A Rhythm We All Move Through
Somewhere in all of it, I realized that the rhythm I was living wasn’t unique to ultrarunners or entrepreneurs or people navigating big life transitions.
It’s human.
Push. Pause. Adapt. Accelerate.
We all cycle through these phases, over and over, as we grow.
What changes us isn’t the intensity of the cycle.
It’s the awareness we bring to it.
Pause
The pause is where truth catches up to you.
It’s the moment you step out of autopilot long enough to ask what’s working, what’s draining you, what you’ve outgrown, and what deserves more of you.
Pauses aren’t breaks.
They’re recalibrations.
Adapt
Adaptation is the quiet stretch where insight turns into traction.
Where you refine the way you show up.
Where your next version begins to take shape long before anyone else notices.
Accelerate
Acceleration isn’t about speed; it’s about alignment.
It’s when clarity and effort finally sync up.
Your decisions sharpen. Your work feels cleaner. Your energy lightens.
You stop forcing momentum and start flowing with it.
Push
And then comes the next push.
Not the frantic push of fear or survival.
The grounded push of someone who knows who they are and where they’re going.
It’s wiser.
More intentional.
More rooted in the person you’ve become through the cycle.
Looking Toward 2026
As we move into a new year, I’m not asking myself:
“What should I be doing more of?”
The better question, the one I invite you to sit with, is:
Where am I in the rhythm right now, and what does the next step call for?
Because endurance isn’t just about running.
It’s about understanding your seasons.
It’s about knowing when to push, when to pause, when to adapt, and when to accelerate.
It’s the long view of your life.
The slow, steady momentum that builds into something meaningful.
Push. Pause. Adapt. Accelerate.
Repeat as needed.
Rise when ready.
