Why we trust progress in some areas of life, but not others
This past Sunday, I completed my first 5K. 🥳
And let’s be clear—I walked probably 70–80% of it and ran only 20–30%.
But as someone who has dealt with SI joint issues and chronic pain for more than 15 years, the fact that I even felt confident enough to sign up, show up, and run as much as I did felt like a HUGE success.
There was a time when I broke down in the middle of a sidewalk because I was in so much pain that I didn’t want to take another step.
So participating and crossing that finish line felt like undeniable evidence of progress.
Progress that has been years in the making.
Monthly appointments with my osteopath.
Consistent walks in Central Park.
Daily exercises to strengthen and stabilize my body.
Countless small decisions that I knew were helping, even if I couldn’t always see exactly how they would lead me to the goal of running.
And yet, even though the progress took years, I never doubted that I would eventually reach my goal. I always trusted that those small steps would eventually get me there... someday.
This week, as I reflected on the race, I realized how differently I relate to progress in other areas of my life.
Because the truth is, there is evidence of progress there too.
In my business and finances.
In my home environment.
In the way I’m handling challenges that would have completely overwhelmed me a few years ago.
The evidence is there.
But in these cases there is a timeline. And when a timeline enters the picture, something changes.
There is suddenly urgency.
Thoughts of “it should be further along by now” or " this isn't enough" creep in.
And suddenly, the same kinds of small steps that felt meaningful in my running journey start to feel like they’re not enough in these other areas.
The biggest difference isn't the progress itself, it's the timeline.
When I believed running would happen someday, I was able to relax and let the process unfold in it's own time. I celebrated the milestones along the way without needing to know exactly when they would lead to the finish line.
When something feels more urgent, I notice myself wanting to control the progress more.
To create certainty much sooner.
I want reassurance that the effort is working.
Proof that the progress is happening fast enough.
But maybe that’s where self-trust comes in.
Sometimes the things that seem unrelated are quietly building the foundation for everything that comes next.
And instead of doubting, remembering that not all progress is linear, visible, or immediate.
Sometimes it’s trusting that the pieces are connecting long before we can see the full picture.
