The Miles That Matter Most: What Half Marathon Training Is Teaching Me About Growth and Alignment

What hills remind me about strength, purpose, training for a goal, listening to your body, and remembering your why.

I signed up for my first race in three years. A half marathon in Long Beach. It’s flat. Fast. A great re-entry into the world of racing.

As my long runs started to increase, I found myself driving to flatter places. Sidewalks by the beach. Looped city parks. Gentle stretches of road. The logic was clear: If my race is flat, I can train on flat ground.

And let’s be honest—those runs felt good. Longer distances, less struggle, a rhythm I could fall into. I felt proud of how strategic I was being. Efficient. Smart.

But then one day, as I laced up and mentioned my plan to find a flat trail, my husband said: “The miles around here are better miles.”

We live in a hilly neighborhood. Not the charming, rolling kind. The kind that tests your legs and your lungs. The kind where you curse the incline but feel invincible at the top.

“Better miles,” he said. And I knew what he meant.

Those hills work you. They slow you down, but they strengthen everything. They demand presence. They remind you that you’re capable of more than you think.

And it made me pause.

It wasn’t wrong to seek out flatter ground. I wasn’t bad for wanting to train smarter or make the run feel more doable .There’s something seductive about ease. Something deeply satisfying about seeing progress in numbers—more miles, less time.

And truthfully, it did help me start. It made the training feel possible again. Like I could actually do this.

But I realized I had slowly started to shift my entire approach around one outcome: the race. I let the goal dictate the terrain. And in the process, I started to lose sight of why I run in the first place.

I run for my health. I run for the mental clarity. I run because it reminds me of who I am when I’m not trying to prove anything. Because it helps me come back to myself.

The hills may not match the race course—but they match me. They’re the miles that nourish me, challenge me, and build me from the inside out.

So now, I’m shifting again.

Not away from the race—I'm still running it. But I’m choosing to trust that the hard, honest, grounding miles near my home are not a detour. They’re the path.

Because maybe the best kind of training isn’t just for one race. Maybe it’s for life. For strength. For staying connected to your deeper why.

The goal matters.

But how you get there? That’s what defines you.

Big shout out to my husband for always reminding me of my potential, pulling me to be better. <3