Betting on myself
and realizing when I stopped doing that in the first place
I do have a word of the year for 2026 but I won’t be sharing it, specifically, because it reflects a culmination of things that have happened over the past, let’s say 6 years, that I don’t want to get into. (If you know me in real life, and you’re curious, I’m happy to chat about it!) What I do want to write about though, is betting on myself—which is branch of my word—and how I realized I had stopped doing that.
“I want to bet on myself again.”
If you ever write1, you’ve probably experienced this: Your brain communicates to you through your fingers, revealing something you didn’t even realize was lodged back in there. Sometimes I know what’s coming, but more often I write and then look at the page, and am like, Who said that?! Like an urge to look behind both shoulders and see who’s pulling the puppet strings. How did my brain know this was a thing I needed to express, in this exact moment?! The sentiment often feels familiar—it came from my own brain, after all—but somehow still surprising. And this is, of course, one reason that I love and crave writing.
Anyway!
Last week, I was filling in a New Client Intake Form for a running coach, and this happened. I wrote something that surprised me. (To be candid, it made me tear up. Ugh.)
“I want to bet on myself again,” I wrote, in response to a question. I don’t remember which one. I just know this is what came to me, as I reflected on why I was virtually here—filling out this form, wanting to work with a coach again2—in the first place.
And this is, of course, one reason that I love running. But I’ve been holding back from using it as an outlet for achievement, because I kept going for a goal and not meeting it. I got really tired of that feeling, because 1) it sucks but, it happens and more so because 2) it wasn’t just happening in running, it was happening in other facets of my life at the time, too.
I guess in some ways running, for me, is a thing I think I’ll have some control over. I have some control over when I run; to some degree I can control how far and how fast I run, and whether or not I want to chase after a running goal. Of course I understand that I can’t fully control whether or not I meet that goal, and usually I’m fine with that! It’s part of the process, part of the fun, that unknown. But I guess, also, in some ways, I got tired of that unknown, and tired of constantly reaching without having something to grab onto. In that season, I had less resilience for that unknown, and I needed a break from it.
For longer than I realized, I’ve been stuck in what felt like a “safe” zone.
I’m just realizing how far back I had retreated from my own self, into a version of me that felt safer, guarded, not resilient enough to weather big or small storms, outside of the chaos always brewing inside my own house3. Parenting, professional things, the perpetual shit storm of news, and some specific personal failures all added up to a version of me that I needed to be, for that season.
Slowly but surely, I can see that I’m near the end of a few of those chapters. I see a different course, and I’m feeling that little pulse of energy that suggests I have what I need to navigate it. Achievement or not, I have that feeling of being more willing to at least try.
I’m ready to run toward a version of me that feels more familiar, again. I know this because of things listed below, and a few things I’ll hold a little closer, for now.
Running and writing for me are often reflective of how I’m actually doing. I’m betting on both of these things, in new ways, this year, ready and willing to see what they show me.
Less vague ways I’m betting on myself in 2026
I signed up for ICE SKATING lessons! I wanted to start them this month (January) but I waited too long and other adults filled the spots, so my lessons don’t start until March. I’m VERY bad at ice skating. Terrible, honestly. It’s confusing to my brain because I did rollerblade quite a bit as a kid and I’m pretty decent at skiing. But, objectively, terrible at ice skating. It just seems fun and it’s a thing I’d like to be better at.
I also signed up for a SOCCER team, which I have been meaning to do for about 3 years. I help coach one of my kid’s soccer teams and it is such a source of joy and fun for me. We’re in the indoor season right now and I especially love indoor soccer. I’ve been leaving our games feeling buzzed and full of energy, with no outlet for that! And each time we turn into the parking lot the marquee advertises “Adult Registration Deadline: January 18th”, reminding me this is a thing I could do, too. I’ve been worried about getting injured, which is likely, but I’d like to worry less about that and actually let myself fuck around and find out.
I’m here! Writing!
Every single time I participate in some sort of journaling or list-making or New Year Intention Setting or whatever, I come up with the same damn thing: Writing. It’s on all of the lists. So, hi, I’m here writing!And, obviously, I hired the running coach! She’s someone I’ve known for a little while and I’m SO excited to be working with her in this capacity.
I’d love to hear about the ways YOU are doing this, or whatever you’re doing in 2026 that feels fun and exciting for you, too.
Journal, notes on your phone, a blank google doc, a notebook you jot things down in…it all counts as writing! I do a mix of all of the above, often.
To be FULLY honest I was also here, filling out this form to work with a coach again, at the strong urging of my Physical Therapist/Friend, as I come back to running consistently after a gnarly Plantar Fasciitis flare up last year. I won’t say I made totally sound decisions in June 2025 and probably could have avoided said flare up if I had not been coaching myself! Whoops!
If you’re new here, we have three young kids, and the chaos is truly AlWayS brewing.
“How did my brain know this was a thing I needed to express, in this exact moment?! The sentiment often feels familiar—it came from my own brain, after all—but somehow still surprising. And this is, of course, one reason that I love and crave writing.”
That’s the quiet magic of writing—your mind offering you exactly what you need before you even know to ask. It feels like rediscovering a truth you’ve always carried, and honoring it by putting it into words.
I always feel excited to read something you’ve written. Thank you for sharing your gift. 🫶 I have the actual thought “Yay! Heather’s writing!” When I see you’ve posted.