🌸 Baby steps — you can do anything.

📚 story

« Just trust the process. »

Haven’t we all heard that before? Because it’s just that easy, right?

I wouldn’t say I’m a total control freak — my husband would argue — but I love to be in control. Let’s just agree that trusting the process isn’t my strong suit.

Still, I love processes.

That’s how I work: have a problem, find a solution, build a process, and voilà.

But when I registered for my first half-marathon, I had no process. Nor did I feel competent to create one myself. To be honest, at that point I was barely running. Four minutes in and I’d turn tomato red, lungs on fire. To this day, I don’t know what got into me the day I registered. But still — in need of a solution — I did what anybody would do these days: I found an app.

Not only would the app set me a training plan, but it would also give me an estimated finish time. Yikes. I winced as I entered my current 5k pace.

After a few seconds, my plan was beautifully arranged for me, and that’s when I saw it:

“In 19 weeks, you’ll run the half in 2:08–2:18.”

I burst out laughing. Aloud.

As if ever.

I kept scrolling through the details of each week’s sessions, thinking: there’s no way IN HELL I’ll manage to follow through with that.

But in the back of my mind were the words:

« Trust the process. »

Fine, I’ll try.

The first week went okay, and so did the second.

The third week was tougher, but I managed to complete those runs too.

Weeks went on and on, and every time I had a challenging workout, I was sure I was going to fail. But every time, I made it.

(In all honesty, I’ll admit I skipped a few — partly because I was tired, but also because some seemed too challenging. Judge me if you must.)

Three weeks before the race, I was starting to feel confident — not about the time, but about the race itself. I could finish it and not suffer all the way.

That’s when I injured myself.

I went to the doctor and prayed I’d be able to keep going. A few months earlier, I would’ve prayed for any excuse not to run. He was skeptical, but gave me a plan to follow, hoping I’d heal fast.

Another process to trust.

Three weeks became two, then one… I was doing better, but my beacon of hope for finishing within the predicted time was dim.

Three days before the race, I started to feel shaky. The last two weeks had been lighter — a “deload,” as they call it — and by the time I reached the starting line, it had been a long time since my last long run.

All around, people were buzzing with excitement. I’m not going to lie: waiting over an hour and a half in a tiny sport top in 4°C weather made it hard to match their energy.

But it was race day, and I was going to do my best.

The first 3k were tough to navigate — too many people, too little space. But at least I wasn’t cold anymore.

Five kilometers in, I found my pace, and I let the crowd’s energy dissolve my anxiety.

10, 12, 15, 18… still on pace — smiling, the sun shining high and bright.

20k — I could feel it. The finish line. I spotted my friends cheering me on, and it gave me the final push I needed.

21.125k.

I’m done.

I fucking made it.

2h15min.

📝 lesson

I’ll give it to you — though I feel this one’s obvious: trust the process.

For every doubt I had, the process offered me the gift of consistency. I kept showing up, no matter what I was feeling — and in the end, it paid off.

Every time I lacked belief in myself, I had the choice to believe in the steps I was taking.

By the end of it, I still wasn’t 100% confident in myself. Maybe I never will be. But I’m 100% sure that I can follow a process — and make it work. Provided it’s a good one.

To me, that’s how trust grows: one process at a time.

Otherwise, I wouldn’t have signed up for the full marathon next year.

💭 questions

• Where in your life are you resisting the process because you don’t feel “ready”?

• What would happen if you stopped trying to feel confident, and instead just trusted the small steps in front of you?

• Looking back, has there been a time when consistency carried you further than you thought possible?

Until next time — may you find a good process.

Love always,
Flora 🌸