Run Every Day
Mid-life crisis is a funny thing. Some people get divorced or start swinging. Some people buy a Miata. Others change their appearance or gender.
Me – I bought thigh-high shorts and started running.
For the past couple of years, I have been running a lot and loving it. I sign up for multiple races each year, I have a Strava account, and yes, I have the little bitch legs to prove it. So when I stumbled across the concept of a running streak, it immediately caught my attention.
What is a Running Streak?
A running streak consists of running at least one mile every single day for a minimum of one year. Trail or treadmill, rain or shine. No rest days. No excuses.
There’s even a website—runeveryday.com—that tracks all the official streak runners in the world. That’s where I noticed some people have been running every single day for 55 consecutive years!
What the fuck, eh? How could anyone run every single day for that long? What about injuries? Sickness? Travel? Hangovers? Diarrhea? Something surely would have to get in the way, right?!
It seemed impossible. The odds were insane.
Only 1 in 2.6 million people have maintained a one-year run streak or longer. That’s rarer than becoming a billionaire, getting struck by lightning, or hitting a hole-in-one. Plus, I have two young germ-spreading kids that have infected me more times than I can recall, and there’s always the threat of blocking pucks while playing hockey. Injury or illness felt inevitable and the odds of pulling it off seemed highly unlikely.
Still, despite the odds, on May 4, 2024, I laced up and started running. My hopes were high, but expectations were low.
Diarrhea, Moose Blood, and Jean Jogging
Just over a month after starting the running streak, I ran the Powderface Half Marathon – my first ever trail race. I pushed hard and actually finished first in my category, but… it came at a cost. My legs were absolutely wrecked.
Later that day, I waddled to my neighbor’s for a BBQ. I watched him casually use the same tongs for both the raw and cooked meat—which felt like a red flag. But I was too hungry and too stupid, so I ate the burger anyway. Of course, I had to wash it down with several beers because Alberta.
The next morning I woke up with food poisoning, dead legs, and a hangover.
When I ran a mile that day, I hobbled around the neighborhood hoping that I wouldn’t shit myself. I looked like a wounded donkey with parkinsons.
That’s when I realized this streak was going to be tougher than I thought.
Another time, while out hunting, I nearly forgot to run. So after skinning a moose—literally covered in blood, guts, and fur—I bolted down a pitch-black country road just to get my mile in.
And then there’s the jeans. Oh, the jeans.
More times than I’d like to admit, I had to jog in jeans. Jogging in jeans sucks – it creates a swamp below your waistline. It’s not very nice. But some days I was stuck on the job site with no other option. Other times, I just didn’t feel like changing. Either way, it’s not fun.
These were just a few of the unexpected hurdles that came with running every single day. Food poisoning. Moose blood. Denim. I had to run through it all.
What I Learned
So—what did I actually learn from running every single day?
Consistency beats intensity.
Anyone can do something hard once. But doing something small—every single day? That’s where the real power is.
Most of my runs weren’t impressive. Some were slow. Some were ugly. Some were done in jeans with questionable bowel control. But they added up.
One mile became ten. Ten became a hundred. Then a thousand.
And here’s the cool part: when you show up every day, you unlock this magic thing called compounding.
It’s not flashy. It’s not exciting. But it works in almost everything. Fitness. Money. Learning. Even relationships.
Take Ronald Read, for example. He was a janitor and gas station attendant from Vermont. Drove an old car. Lived in a small house. Ate peanut butter sandwiches. Nothing about his life screamed millionaire.
But when he died at age 92, he quietly left behind over $8 million—most of it donated to his town’s library and hospital. People were shocked.
How’d he do it?
He didn’t win the lottery. He didn’t strike it rich. He just saved a little every single day… consistently. And he let compounding do the rest.
That’s the same principle I found in running.
Show up. Do the work. Repeat.
It’s not sexy. But it moves the needle.
And after a year of running—every single day—I honestly believe: relentless, boring consistency might be the closest thing to a real-life superpower.
The Finish Line (Sort Of)
On May 4, 2025, I hit the one-year mark. 365 days. 365 runs.
No medal. No fanfare. No celebration. Because let’s be honest—no one cares. It’s a stupid running streak.
But when I saw my name on runeveryday.com – a site that nobody will ever see – it meant a lot. It was proof that I did something hard every single day. Not because I had to. But because I wanted to.
What started as a mid-life running crisis in thigh-high shorts transformed into something I couldn't have imagined. And it all started with something as simple as one mile.
And here’s the thing:
You don’t need to run. You don’t need a streak. But you do need something that’s worth showing up for.
So whatever that thing is for you—writing your next screenplay, learning guitar, building a business, walking the dog, podcasting —do it.
Do it badly. Do it inconsistently at first. But keep showing up.
Because consistency compounds.
And over time, those small, almost-forgettable efforts can build into something extraordinary.
So ask yourself:
What’s your one mile?
And when are you going to start?
