Sometimes You Need to Step Away to Fall in Love Again
Sometimes you need to take a break from something you love to truly appreciate it—to rediscover the joy, the meaning, the why behind it. I’m not talking about bad habits or destructive addictions. I’m talking about the simple, beautiful act of running.
Running, for me, has never been just a physical activity. If you’ve read my first book Thirsty for Health, you know that I started running after I quit smoking. I had gained weight, and I needed to get my body and mind back in alignment. That was more than six years ago. Since then, running has changed my life in ways I never imagined.
It gave me clarity. It gave me a new perspective on food, health, discipline, and even relationships. It introduced me to people I now consider friends. It made me a better man. But life, as it always does, demanded my attention elsewhere. A divorce. A new home. Emotional rebuilding. And during this time, running quietly stepped into the background.
I could have let that distance between us grow. But instead, I chose to make space again. I remembered that every run is an investment—in my health, my future, and my sense of peace. So while others may be reaching for medications to manage blood pressure or cholesterol, I continue to reach for my running shoes and stick to a whole-food, plant-based lifestyle that keeps me thriving.
When I first started running, I saw it as a temporary fix—something to shed a few kilos. I thought I’d stop once the weight was gone. But running had other plans for me. Slowly, it reshaped my mindset. I no longer run just for fitness. I run because it completes me. It recalibrates me. It teaches me discipline, perseverance, and how to sit with discomfort until I grow through it.
Being a computer engineer, I see it like software development. The first version is full of bugs. Over time, with each update, it gets better. We fix the errors. We listen to feedback. We adapt. That’s how running works on us. With every run, we improve. We refine. We evolve.
One of the most memorable moments in my running journey came in November 2016 during the Four-Day Challenge in Paphos, Cyprus. It was the perfect test—not just of physical endurance, but of mental resilience.
Day one began with a 6K time trial to seed runners for the upcoming races. I finished in 29:48, feeling strong and content. The route was scenic, finishing with the stunning view of a shipwreck along the coast.
Day two brought the toughest challenge: 11K uphill. Almost no downhills. Brutal. But the surprise of the changed route didn’t deter me—it excited me. I thrive on the unexpected. The race ended in the charming village of Pano Arodes. Afterward, I cooled down, stretched, and soaked in the experience.
Day three was the half marathon. Still sore from the previous day, I considered quitting. But I showed up. I ran. And as the route revealed itself—flat, coastal, beautiful—I was energized. I stopped to take photos. I smiled. I finished strong. Then I ran straight into the sea to cool off. It was perfect.
Day four was bittersweet—the final 10K. I was sore, but grateful. I started slow. By kilometer four, a fellow runner joined me. We talked, paced together, and became friends. It was one of those moments that reminded me why I run.
The Four-Day Challenge was impeccably organized. The volunteers, aid stations, routes—everything reflected care and passion. If nothing changes, I’ll be back again.
After the Challenge, I took a break from running. Life got in the way again. But on November 13, 2016, I went back out—at night, under a full moon, through the forest I love.
It was cold, but peaceful. I wore a headlamp, tried out a new hydration belt, and ran with curiosity rather than intensity. The first mile was stiff. Then, like muscle memory waking up, everything softened. I ran for 60 minutes, feeling lighter with every step.
Back home, I followed my post-run ritual: warm clothes, stretching, hydration, a hot shower, and a plant-based dinner. Rice and potatoes never tasted so good.
That run reminded me: stepping away helped me come back stronger. The love hadn’t faded. It had matured.
Sometimes we need space to appreciate what we once took for granted. Life pulls us in different directions. Responsibilities stack up. Emotions run high. But in all of that, we must carve out time to invest in ourselves.
Running isn’t just a sport. It’s therapy. It’s meditation. It’s joy.
If you’re returning to something you love, don’t expect perfection. Just show up. Start small. Reconnect.
And when you do, you might just fall in love all over again.
Discover more in my book: “42 tips that will make you a better runner” where I share my experience of more than ten years of running.
Disclaimer: This article shares personal opinions and experiences. It is not medical advice. Always consult a qualified healthcare professional before making any health-related decisions. Use this information at your own risk.
