Over a decade ago, my wife and I took a trip to Jamaica. We stayed at an all-inclusive resort—one of those pre-kids getaways when slipping away for a few days was still easy.
At the time, I had just restarted my running journey. I don't remember what I was training for, but I had a reason to lace up and run every day of that vacation. Looking back, maybe I had reached the point I'm at now, where running on vacation is the relaxation.
But that's not the point of this story.
The resort was pristine—palm trees swaying, turquoise water, tropical drinks, and chicken nuggets (my guilty pleasure) in every hand. But the surrounding community painted a different picture: humble homes, quiet streets, and the rhythms of daily life in sharp contrast to the curated experience inside the resort walls.
Most tourists never see that part of Jamaica. Why would they? The resort has everything. But my daily run took me 30 minutes out, past the gates and into neighborhoods where vacation wasn't the point of life. Then I'd turn around and head back, grateful for the run and the time.
One morning, on the return leg of a run, I spotted another couple. Newlyweds, they told me—fit, fast, and experienced runners. I met up with them at the end of the run.
I asked the inevitable runner question: "Have you ever run a marathon?"
The man nodded. "Yes," he said. "I ran one recently. Finished in 3:05."
I was stunned. At the time, I was a 4-hour marathoner. A 3:05 finish felt like another universe.
"That's amazing," I told him.
He smiled, not smug or boastful—just grounded.
"Thanks," he said. "I worked hard for it."
That line stuck with me. Still does a decade later. Not a hack, not a secret formula—just the truth, simple and direct: I worked hard for it.
It's Spring.
At the time, I had just restarted my running journey. I don't remember what I was training for, but I had a reason to lace up and run every day of that vacation. Looking back, maybe I had reached the point I'm at now, where running on vacation is the relaxation.
But that's not the point of this story.
The resort was pristine—palm trees swaying, turquoise water, tropical drinks, and chicken nuggets (my guilty pleasure) in every hand. But the surrounding community painted a different picture: humble homes, quiet streets, and the rhythms of daily life in sharp contrast to the curated experience inside the resort walls.
Most tourists never see that part of Jamaica. Why would they? The resort has everything. But my daily run took me 30 minutes out, past the gates and into neighborhoods where vacation wasn't the point of life. Then I'd turn around and head back, grateful for the run and the time.
One morning, on the return leg of a run, I spotted another couple. Newlyweds, they told me—fit, fast, and experienced runners. I met up with them at the end of the run.
I asked the inevitable runner question: "Have you ever run a marathon?"
The man nodded. "Yes," he said. "I ran one recently. Finished in 3:05."
I was stunned. At the time, I was a 4-hour marathoner. A 3:05 finish felt like another universe.
"That's amazing," I told him.
He smiled, not smug or boastful—just grounded.
"Thanks," he said. "I worked hard for it."
That line stuck with me. Still does a decade later. Not a hack, not a secret formula—just the truth, simple and direct: I worked hard for it.
It's Spring.
What are you working hard for?
-George