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The 69th Edition

The world rewards noise. Opinions, updates, hot takes all screaming for your attention.

But most of us don’t need more input. We need stillness.

The less you try to control the outcome, the closer you often get to it

When was the last time you trained, created, or lived without trying to prove something?

I used to believe progress came from constant motion. Learning more, doing more, thinking more. My headphones were always in, listening to podcasts I thought would teach me, scared to listen to music because I thought I was wasting my time. My training data endlessly analysed, looking to optimise everything! Every run had a purpose, every lift a metric, every rest day a reason. But at some point I started to realise I wasn’t actually improving. I was just getting louder in my own head.

Over time I’ve noticed how much of my identity’s been wrapped up in doing, achieving, striving. Nothing teaches you this more brutally than when you’re injured. I suffered a bad ankle sprain this year and it stopped me from training. When I could no longer move, I was left with myself. No Strava uploads, no training sessions to measure worth by. It was uncomfortable at firs, but then it was sort of freeing. Without the need to progress, I started to feel present. Without chasing, I started to grow again.

Lately, I’ve been thinking about what Tom Evans said after winning UTMB: he won because he “wanted it less.” That hit me. The idea that wanting something less can bring you closer to it. It’s not about caring less, it’s about trusting more. When we’re no longer strangling the outcome, we give space for performance, creativity, and joy to emerge naturally.

Running demands effort, but it rewards surrender. You can’t force rhythm, flow, or endurance. You meet them when you stop fighting for them. Like life, the best moments in running come when you stop gripping so tightly, and when you let go and allow the work you’ve already done to carry you.

We live in an age where silence is almost suspicious. If you’re not learning, improving, optimising, you must be falling behind. But what if the opposite is true, and your next breakthrough isn’t hidden in another book, podcast, or data point – but in stillness?

Stillness doesn’t mean apathy. It means clarity. It means creating space between stimulus and response. Between who you are and who you think you need to be. When you stop reacting to everything, you start to hear something far more valuable – your own voice.

People don’t like to hear this. Many think they need the noise, they need the 24hr news cycle, they need the constant bombardment of information, they need to always know what’s happening, to be moving, striving, reaching, learning, doing! Some have even called me “privileged” for even suggesting we should control how much is going in. For reasons perhaps better communicated on a Substack, I disagree. I think it is our responsibility, for our own sake and for the sake of those around us, that we take responsibility for our own stillness and peace.

The most grounded athletes – and the happiest people – understand this paradox: striving is necessary, but so is surrender. You prepare meticulously, you train with intent, but on the start line, you have to let go.

So this week, find a moment of stillness. Not to escape, but to remember… that everything you need to know, you already know.


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Run the Runnable!

Tommy 🙂

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