I am going to start this post with a disclaimer. One of my best, oldest friends and biggest supporters online is a regular Ironman attendee and has travelled extensively to achieve amazing feats that I never dreamt of. This blog is not an attack on those who have chosen extreme endurance sports to be their chosen recreation because I applaud you. This is an article to say to those who think they need to do that but do not have the resources to make such a sacrifice; many a person has secretly done the same thing without having to make such a splash.
In case you didn’t know I am addicted to learning, like proper addicted. I don’t want to be caught with my pants down when someone needs help – I have even written that into my own personal obituary – and I just love to listen read and absorb. So, this morning, as I’m listening to the Modern Wisdom Podcast once again with Chris Williamson, he is interviewing Ned Brockman, the man who just ran 1600km – or 1000 miles – around athletics track in 12 days. No small feat by any stretch of the imagination, however it had me thinking, Would Christ Williamson ever interview a guy like me? The guy who for the last 3 years hasn’t not read for 50 minutes a day? Who for the last ‘since forever’ has worked out a minimum of 4 times per week? Or never quit coffee in my life? And why not?
In a world that thrives on spectacle, we’ve developed a strange fascination with glorifying monumental achievements while overlooking the small, daily actions that quietly lead to lasting change. Running a 100-mile race? That’s the stuff of legend, the kind of feat that gets likes, applause, and admiration. But is it truly the race we should be celebrating or the consistent, deliberate journey that made it possible in the first place?
Yesterday as I read Dan Williams’s masterpiece yesterday on his website, and he quoted stating that “There will always be problems in life. It’s just about upgrading to better problems.” And it made me realise is that why people are choosing to pursue such big feats when they could probably choose more simple tasks to focus on. This truly is something I have also been toying with lately about how it’s the problems we don’t have that seem to make us seek out problems we can create. And just recently I wrote a whole other literary piece on this regarding how ‘the reason behind most peoples mental health problems is that we have it to good in the modern world’ and that for that reason we perceive we don’t.
That we have in fact upgraded to better problems, if any, and so we make them up for ourselves. Like how good of a problem is needing to find a ‘purpose’ when not too long ago before fridges were invented, we had to wonder where each and every meal was going to come from?
Think about it—most of us live lives cushioned by creature comforts. Our struggles often aren’t about survival anymore but about finding meaning. That’s why many people chase extreme challenges like ultra-marathons or Ironman races to fill that void. These massive discomforts offer a temporary escape from the monotony of modern life, a chance to confront problems that feel primal, raw, and significant. But at what cost?
One of the biggest concerns I have is that big feats come with big sacrifices. Training for a 100-mile race might mean neglecting family time, sacrificing work performance, or even risking your health. And while these challenges can be transformative, they’re often pursued for the wrong reasons. Validation, external approval, or the hope that conquering one enormous hurdle will somehow solve all the smaller issues in life. That if you do something amazing maybe the whole in your existence will become filled?
But it doesn’t quite work that way. Crossing the finish line of an ultra-endurance event doesn’t magically fix a poor diet, lack of sleep, or a sedentary lifestyle. It doesn’t address the real problems—those we face daily in our habits, choices, and priorities.
The irony is though, that as a society we glorify the person who endures a massive, temporary sacrifice but criticise the one who quietly chooses small, sustainable changes that break societal norms. Quit drinking? You’re seen as uptight! Pack your lunch instead of eating out? You’re “no fun.”! Opt to wake up early and exercise? People ask why you’re so obsessed!
But these small, consistent choices—the ones that don’t get you a medal or a roaring crowd—are the real drivers of change. They’re less dramatic but more impactful because they’re sustainable. They don’t require you to radically alter your identity; they ask you to refine it.
So why does society celebrate the high highs and criticise the steady climb? Because big feats are easy to understand and admire. They’re clear, finite, and dramatic. Daily discipline, on the other hand, is quiet and unassuming. It doesn’t demand attention, and it doesn’t make for a compelling story.
The crazy part I find crazy and would like to see more of the norm is that those who succeed by making small, moderate changes—like saying no to dessert, hitting the gym regularly, or prioritising sleep—often reach the same destination as those who burn bright and fast chasing monumental goals. They just do it without sacrificing other major, more critical parts of their lives like family, friends and loved ones. The sacrifice from those loved ones other than a little understanding. They just cant say they have ran 100 miles at the end.
The goal isn’t to avoid discomfort—it’s to choose discomforts that upgrade your life without burning you out. Large discomforts, like a 100-mile race, require massive sacrifices. Smaller discomforts, like sticking to a meal plan or exercising daily, demand less but compound over time, leading to the same destination.
Basically, what I’m trying to say is the journey we’re on matters more than the feats we accomplish. That we need to start to understand, as a society, It’s not about one grand act of sacrifice; it’s about the hundreds of tiny ones we make every day. That we should stop glorifying the burn so much and really start celebrating the slow, steady climb. The kind of climb that doesn’t just change your life for a moment but transforms it for a lifetime. That although we should look up to the feats that Ned Brockman and guys like him might achieve. We can also glorify other amazing things like being healthy for our kids, live a life filled with joy and discipline in a way that doesn’t require us to have to worry if our bodies are going to breakdown, if we might shit our pants or can we just miss a little sleep, say no to few beers and check in with ourselves on are we running the race to escape our problems? or to face them? And more importantly, what kind of problems do we want to upgrade to? And this really it?