There was a time in my life when I stopped running. Not because I hated running. Not because I was injured. Not because I was lazy. I stopped running because, in my twenties, I was busy chasing after something else—identity.
Career. Recognition. Titles. Brand association. A name on my
CV that could explain who I am. I lived in what I now jokingly call a pantheon
of voices—trying to find myself through who I worked for.
When I quit my job at PwC, something quietly fell apart. It
wasn’t my finances first, nor my career. It was my sense of self that
collapsed. The long working hours I had wrapped around myself as protective
armor disintegrated. For the first time, I realized how deeply my sense of
worth had been outsourced to an organization.
In 2013, alone and staring at the future, I was just another
highly skilled technologist. Certifications. Experience. A bit of chutzpah. And
nothing else to hide behind. I was entering consulting as an entrepreneur. And
there is nothing more unsettling than confronting yourself when agency is
suddenly returned to you.
Leaving the Empire: When Agency Suddenly Becomes Yours
There is a small and uncomfortable window that opens when
you leave a job. A transfer occurs. For years, your sustenance, structure, and
security were provided by your employer. Your agency was
deferred—comfortably—to an institution.
Then one day, you resign or are released, and the
responsibility quietly shifts to you. This is why business owners carry an
invisible weight on their shoulders. It’s not just about revenue; it’s about
families, school fees, rent, medical coverage, and futures. Someone has
entrusted you with their agency.
Now imagine quitting and carrying that weight before you
even know how heavy it is. People handle this differently. Some sink into
depression. Some become hyper-anxious. Some freeze. Some disappear into
reflection. Some discover—slowly and painfully—that entrepreneurship might be
the only road left.
And then comes the harsh reality. Entrepreneurship isn’t for
everyone. No salary. No benefits.
No guaranteed bank deposit at the end of the month. Now you have to sell
yourself—long enough, convincingly enough, and repeatedly enough.
Selling your own name is different from selling a well-known
brand. When you sell for an empire, you have code, rules, heritage, and
protection. When you sell for yourself, you are a barbarian—no empire, no
banners, no shields—just your wits, creativity, and resilience. Most people
prefer the empire.
Freedom isn't as romantic as motivational posters make it out
to be. But I became a barbarian—an orderly one—with a young family. And very
quickly, I realized something deeply uncomfortable.
I had been deceiving myself, especially about my health.
Running from Fear, Grief and Comfort
One evening, out of deep frustration, I grabbed an old pair
of shoes from a rack. A potential client had gone silent after what looked like
a closed deal. My finances were running low. My ideas had dried up. My
confidence was quietly fading. So I ran, not for fitness, but for sanity. I ran
one kilometer. Then I collapsed in a field and stared at my sweating, heavy
body as if it belonged to someone else. Yet, I was surprisingly proud. I
managed to do ten push-ups—suffering through each one. Then I ran the one
kilometer back home.
And then the pain hit. My knees burned, and I couldn’t walk
properly for days. A friend suggested I go for walks instead. I shrugged.
Walking felt safe. Running felt alive. The next day, I skipped it. Then another
day. Then, another crash came a week later. And I ran again.
At some point during that run, I passed a runner wearing
proper shoes. I found myself having one of the most adult internal debates of
my early entrepreneurial life: Should I buy running shoes... or buy diapers?
That week, I closed a deal. I bought both.
It took what felt like years before I could run ten
kilometers. By then, I had quietly become a checklist man. A day had rules. If
I checked them off, the day was successful. If I didn’t, the day failed. I
didn’t know the language of habits back then. But I was already living it.
My life changed when I read Atomic Habits by James
Clear, not because it gave me motivation, but because it finally put into words
what I had unintentionally stumbled into.
But my true intention arrived in 2016, when my father died.
Grief is not logical; it is heavy, physical, and confusing. Life suddenly felt
thin. Strangely, the only thing that still made sense was running. I would run
twenty kilometers wearing knee braces, then endure two days of pain. But the
pain in the body felt lighter than the pain in the heart.
In 2017, everything fell apart properly. I processed my
grief by writing a book. Then I made an absurd decision. I would do something
that seemed impossible... I would run a half-marathon, swim in a dam, and swim
in the ocean. I found a coach, and he didn't indulge my comfort, not even
politely, because I was already good at doing what I was used to.
And many of us mistake that for growth. Sometimes we become
comfortable repeating what we’re good at… while secretly craving validation.
Growth, unfortunately, is often deeply inconvenient.
That year, I discovered triathletes. Then I saw him: an old
man in his eighties, running full marathons, swimming kilometers in open water,
and cycling 180 kilometers. At first, I was shocked. But then something more
dangerous happened—a possibility entered my mind.
In 2017, I set a simple goal. In my remaining years, I will
run longer, swim further, and cycle farther. I will deliberately build strength
in a body I once called feeble.
And quietly, another discovery came to light. The body isn't
the only system that can be trained. The mind—both conscious and
unconscious—can also be trained. But only if you're willing to take control.
Why Self-Concept Is the Real Engine of Habit Change
Here's the uncomfortable truth I’ve realized as a habit
coach. Habits don’t fail first; self-concept does. For a long time, I was
trying to change my behavior while protecting the identity behind it.
Yesterday, I took a step back and evaluated my progress. I
had just run one kilometer nonstop in three minutes and forty seconds. It
wasn’t my first time. But I had gotten there over time and through an audacious
journey of consistency. Not by chance, but by belief. The belief that I can
get faster as I grow older. I don’t believe that aging automatically
makes us weaker. I believe we grow weaker only when we stop
intentionally training our strength.
What has changed most for me isn’t the training plan. It is
my internal language. My self-concept. What I believe about my limits. What I
believe about my capacity. What I believe about what is still possible at 42.
The order is always the same: belief → feeling → thinking →
behavior. Your body follows your identity, not your motivational playlist.
From checklist living to identity living
My early habitual life was mechanical. I just did the run,
the press-ups, and the work. Now, my habitual life is identity-driven. I am not
trying to run; I am a runner. I am not trying to grow; I am a man who embodies
growth.
Age, strength and the lie we quietly accept
One of the most harmful social stories we accept is that
decline happens automatically as you age. It does not. Neglect happens
automatically. Strength is intentional. Resilience is deliberate. Longevity is
behavioral before it is biological.
Training the mind the way we train the body
Just as I trained my lungs, knees, and pace, I have had to
train my agency. To stop outsourcing responsibility. To stop waiting for
emotional permission. To stop confusing comfort with wisdom. This is what habit
coaching is genuinely about.
Not productivity. Not morning routines. Agency.
Conclusion – The Real Running Man
The running man isn’t the one who moves the fastest. The
running man is the one who runs toward responsibility, discomfort, agency, and
a new self-concept.
I left an empire. I became a barbarian. But I also became
something else—a man who stopped negotiating with his own potential.
Call to Action
If this story made you feel uncomfortable, don’t just scroll
past it. Start small by choosing one habit that affirms your agency this week.
And if you're looking for structured support in rebuilding your self-concept,
health habits, and personal agency, follow my work or reach out to me.
If this message
stirred something in you, don’t let it fade.
1. Join
my LinkedIn Habit Coaching Newsletter: https://www.linkedin.com/newsletters/habits-with-coach-edwin-7399067976420966400/
2. Join
my Habit WhatsApp Community at https://whatsapp.com/channel/0029VbAmKkOBvvsWOuBx5g3L
3. Alternatively,
sign up for my 12-month Personal Transformation Program by sending me a
message on WhatsApp at +254-724328059.
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