Lifting represented confidence for me.

When I was young, I was never good at sports. I didn’t know what I was good at and where I belonged. When I started lifting that changed.

In the gym, I found a place where I belonged. A sport where I alone was responsible for my results. It gave me purpose.

Over the years, I grew bigger and stronger. I got compliments. I figured I was made for this sport. Simple movements. The right genes.

It seemed to come easier to me than to others. I felt confident in the gym.

People came to me with questions. For the first time, I felt like I was valuable.

I learned that I could make a plan and execute it. I got results. I was back in the captain’s chair of my life.

Then, about three years ago, the fire started to fade. I was just going through the motions.

I was proud of my physique, and sure, things could be better, but I knew that would just take more time and more of the same.

I had cracked the code. I knew what to do. And that made it boring.

I needed to be challenged again.

So I decided to add running.

I had always been bad at it. No conditioning. Struggling with running tests.

I found it boring and tough. That’s exactly why I chose it.

The first runs were humbling. I couldn’t control my breathing. My legs were on fire.

After four kilometers, I was done. I was a beginner again — just like my first day in the gym.

No idea what I was doing. No one guiding me. And for weeks, I didn’t get better.

My gym sessions suffered too. My confidence dropped. My ego screamed that this wasn’t for me, that I should quit and just lift.

That was always my pattern with sports. Quietly accepting I sucked and looking away in shame.

I was done with that.

Running humbled me, but it also lit a fire. I decided to approach it like lifting: learn the game and get good at it.

When I finally leaned into the hard runs I avoided, something shifted. It was terrible but I could guide myself through it.

And the feeling afterward was unmatched.

That’s when I realized it was never running versus lifting. I was afraid of no longer being the lifter.

Changing your identity feels painful. And that is okay. A new identity will emerge. You can be both. A runner and lifter. You just have to choose.