I was running over the weekend,

middle of the day, right under that smoldering South Florida sun.

I was doing about a 3.7 mile stretch, which is one of six or seven legs I was doing for the ultramarathon that day against the clock, fighting the heat,

you know, starting to really suffer, which is the perfect environment for the thoughts that we

don't want to let it. It's where we engineer compromise, create excuses. And I've been running

all morning. So as I got more and more tired, more tired, my mind inevitably started looking for a way out,

rationalizing, slowing down.

I think everyone's been there, right, in one way or another.

And after wrestling with this for about a mile, I came to a realization.

I'm doing too much.

Not physically, but mentally.

Building cognitive enemies, creating complexity.

See, when you're uncomfortable, when you're in pain,

things become incredibly convoluted.

They seem chaotic.

Lack of clarity, at least for me, it creates anxiety.

But that lightball moment was, you know, during that leg running to Key West at 12 p.m.

With miles to go and questions unanswered, that there's nothing complex about the situation.

No mystery to resolve or riddle to figure out.

In fact, on paper, this is one of the easiest things I have ever done.

Why?

Well, because all I have to do is not stop.

...