Writers must have some of the cleanest homes on earth. Allow me to rephrase that. A writer, during the week of their deadline, must have the cleanest home in town. At least I do, and I suspect that I’m not alone. Allow me to explain.
These days, when I sit down to write, the words often don’t come easily. I struggle to find my voice. This is funny, because some days, when I’m out running, it feels like whole paragraphs just flow from my brain. Maybe I should put this in an article, I think, as my stride clips along on the trail. Of course, I often conclude the run and move on to the next thing without jotting down any notes. Days or weeks later, my deadline rolls around, and I feel stuck.
Unable to find a strong theme, much less a direction in which to take it, I wallow. I do anything but write. I clean and organize my skis. I check my email. I sweep the floor and make the bed. I look at my bank account. I check my email again. I reply to that text that came in days ago. I even think about writing, then go back to, well, anything else.
Perhaps if I were different, I would just come up with something and say it. I wouldn’t worry about it being good or truthful, and would just write something that ticks the box, meets the deadline, and fills the page. It would be similar if I just ran races and did things that appeased my sponsors and fans, instead of finding events that mean something to me personally. The trouble is, I don’t want to do that in either writing or running.
Cutting Through the Noise
I feel that holding onto such goals — like being good and truthful — is very important these days. We live in a content-hungry culture. The world constantly bombards us with, well, stuff. Some of it is good stuff: things people come up with after waiting for their words to hit and working hard to write them down when they do. And some of it is just stuff: something to fill the void, meet the deadline, and feed the algorithm.
As we head into the spring and on to summer, I find myself having similar thoughts regarding running. There is a lot of “stuff” out there: Train like this. Eat that. Drink this (much). Do that workout. Wear these shoes. Sign up for this race. Every time you turn around, someone is preaching about the next big thing. Sometimes I question its legitimacy. Are people saying these things because they truly believe them, or are they just filling space and keeping bosses, followers, and algorithms happy? Are professional racers signing up for events because they really want to run them, or because it is part of their contract?
I think the answer is: yes. Yes, some of these things are real. There are things that people believe and care about. And at the same time, yes, some of these things are doing little more than filling space, building brands, and acquiring clicks. It might feel difficult to determine which is which, but in the end, maybe that doesn’t matter so much.

Zach running through the streets of Ouray during the 2025 Hardrock 100. Photo: iRunFar/Eszter Horanyi
No matter what the articles, commercials, influencers, professional racers, and YouTubers say, at the end of the day, it’s still just running. And you know what? Running existed long before any of these things.
To me, running is about so much more than all this chatter. It’s about exploration, having fun, and challenging oneself. As I look ahead to the upcoming race season, I’m trying to think about what I want to do. It can be easy to feel like you should do this or that because it’s popular and gets attention. It can be easy to feel like you should train a certain way or enlist the help of a well-known coach. It can be easy to get swept up in the latest and greatest shoes, events, dietary trends, or training regimens and forget, through all the noise, that it’s just running.
Finding Words
I spent a lot of time this week spinning my wheels, trying to come up with something to write. I hope what I landed on is worth reading; if not, I hope I didn’t waste too much of your time. I guess all I am saying is that running is whatever you want to make of it. It should hold value to you, whatever that may be. It could be for fun, health, competition, or a million other things. There isn’t a right or wrong answer, so long as it’s something you’re into. And it doesn’t always have to feel like you’re doing it well, either — whether you’re running or writing — sometimes it’s okay to struggle.
As much as I desire to write something good, I remember that I’ve been told that not everything needs to be a home run. And trust me, not all of my writing is. Not all of my race results have been what I’d hoped they’d be, either. I’ve hit my share of singles over the years, probably even a few sacrificial bunts and walks to first. I definitely struck out a few times. I could be doing that right now.
Yet, I like to think that most of the time, amidst all the hemming and hawing, dillying and dallying, cleaning of skis and checking of emails, I find something. And hopefully, what I find is something worth writing. And in turn, something worth reading.
As we move through the end of March and into April, perhaps take a step back from the things that popular running culture wants you to value and take some time to think about what you want from the upcoming trail season. If it’s adventure that you seek, find one that inspires you. If it’s competition, sign up for a race that intrigues you. And if it’s nothing more than time spent running around outside, do that without feeling like you’re not living up to the expectations of others.

Zach, during the early stages of the 2025 Hardrock 100, clearly enjoying the run. Photo: iRunFar/Bryon Powell
At the end of the day, running — and writing — is too much work not to be enjoyed, so focus on what you value, and know that it’s okay to leave the rest at home. Because after all, life is too short to force your words.
Call for Comments
- How do you cut through the noise of running content to determine what is important to you?
- Writer-runners: How clean is your house this week? [Editor’s Note: Cleaner than average for me!]

