Joyful Running Gives The Best Results
Tough can still be fun.
If you’ve been finding your running a bit joyless lately, or you’re a time-poor ultrarunner juggling training, work, and life - this may be the blog for you.
Whether you're preparing for your next ultramarathon or just trying to keep the wheels turning during a busy season, joy isn’t just allowed - it’s essential.
The best runners I know aren’t just fast - they’re still running, still curious, and still enjoying it five years later.
I was listening to the Huberman Lab podcast recently, an episode featuring sprint coach Stu McMillan, sometimes known as the Zen Master of sprint coaching (by me at least). You can listen to it here if you’re into sprinting, plyometrics, skipping, or longevity.
Huberman asked him a question that derailed me slightly: is skipping better than running? They ended up in deep discussion - something about longevity - but I couldn’t stop laughing.
If you want to skip, skip. And if you want to run, run!
I find that too much of the health industry seems to be about doing something you don’t enjoy, just to live longer. That might be sustainable in theory, but I’ve got a sneaking suspicion you’re not actually living longer - life’s become so boring it just feels that way.
Culturally, training has become something to tolerate, and not enjoy. And when that mindset creeps in, it bleeds into everything.
Enjoyment isn’t a bonus, it’s the engine.
You don’t get better because you grind. You get better because you keep showing up.
And you keep showing up when training becomes a habit.
Even someone like Courtney Dauwalter - a queen of the pain cave - talks about smiling as a tool. Not because she’s not trying, but because joy is part of how she performs.
Enjoyment matters, because joy and habit are the secret to running better. I’ve written before about how to build a running habit, but let’s talk about joy here.
Joy is what turns habit into consistency.
Joy first, progress second. The real performance booster isn’t heat training, VO2 max intervals, or gut training. It’s not ketones or super shoes.
It’s showing up again, and again, and again.
One of my runners, Tim, got a London Marathon place very late in the day. We didn’t have time to build both volume and intensity safely.
So we simplified: run often, run easy.
Just stay consistent. No hero sessions. No complicated plans.
Despite zero speedwork, he ran a marathon PB of 3:44 and a half marathon PB of 1:38 the week after - both comfortably faster than anything he did in training.
The Pareto Principle absolutely applies here. 80% of your gains will come from 20% of your inputs.
If you’re not nailing the basics, no amount of fine-tuning will make up for it.
As a coach, I’ve seen it work over and over again. The runners who get better are the ones who keep showing up - not necessarily the ones doing the flashiest workouts.
And the funny thing is; training is more consistent when it’s more enjoyable.
Most runners don’t quit because they’re lazy. They quit because they’re bored, overwhelmed, or burnt out. A plan that respects your energy and adds moments of joy? That’s the one you’ll stick with.
And that’s where the real progress starts. That’s not soft—it’s strategic. Joy is what keeps the work sustainable enough to pay off. That means:
Running easy, most of the time.
Recovering properly.
Adjusting when life gets messy.
Not letting perfectionism derail a good enough week.
Finding ways to like it more.
Joy looks different for everyone
Here’s the trap; assuming that what works, or excites, someone else will automatically work for you.
Take David Roche. I love him. His energy is infectious and his love for running (and humanity) is undeniable. But the treadmill, the heat suit, 150g of carbs an hour (that may or may not be an exaggeration, I’ve become a bit lost)….
I can’t think of anything worse. What clearly brings him joy would crush me.
I love the outdoors. I hate the heat. I find my twice-weekly sauna sessions mentally tougher than the worst interval session I’ve ever done.
I hope they’re doing something magical to my haemoglobin levels (though the blood tests I have when donating plasma don’t necessarily suggest they are). And it makes me wonder—why am I doing this?
Don’t get me wrong, doing things that suck a couple of times a week probably builds mental toughness but in reality, everything shouldn’t suck.
Training only works if it works for you.
That doesn’t mean every session should feel easy or exciting.
Running consistently involves boredom and wanting to sack things off from time to time, but it should mainly feel worth showing up for.
It’s easy to forget that joy - not suffering - was what made you fall in love with running in the first place.
So if joy looks different for everyone, then your training goals have to reflect your life. Not someone else’s.
If you don’t care about the goal, you won’t do the work
You don’t have to run an ultramarathon to be a runner. You don’t have to chase a Boston Qualifier to be taken seriously.
You just need to know why you run - and let that shape your training.
I coached a runner, Simon, used to run long ultras—but he wasn’t following the plan.
When we talked, it became clear that other priorities mattered more right now—and running was starting to get in the way.
So we reworked things. He trained for something more meaningful and manageable in his current life - the Manchester Marathon. He ran a PB of 3:29 at age 63.
That’s what alignment looks like.
Misaligned goals create friction. You sign up for a race because your friends are doing it. Or because it sounds hardcore. Or because your identity got wrapped up in being ‘the ultra gal’.
But then your training becomes a chore. You’re not actually chasing your goal - you’re chasing someone else’s.
I’m not immune. Come the end of the year when everyone’s planning their race calendars, I get caught in the whirl thinking ‘shit, what should I do?’
But over the years I’ve learned I just need to sit without having a running challenge until something inspires me.
This year it’s the Spine Race. A race I vowed I’d never do has now become my A goal.
Even now after a hard training block, I’m wondering about my B goal of a solo Paddy Buckley. Do I really, really want to do it?
Honestly, I’m not sure but I’m going to get out for some recces and see how I feel - will the mountains move me?
Build a plan you don’t want to escape from
Once you’re clear on why you run, the next question is this: does your plan reflect that?
We’ve all heard that training needs to be hard. That you have to grind. That discipline is everything. And yes, some runs will feel awful. That’s part of it.
But if the entire training block is a joy vacuum, you’re setting yourself up to fail. You won’t stay consistent. You’ll lose your spark. And you might even start resenting the sport you love.
So what does joy look like across a block?
It looks like a structure that feels manageable. Not suffocating. There’ll be big weeks near the race, of course. But if it feels like a grind from week two, you’re destined for misery.
A good block has rhythm. A mix of hard and easy, intensity and rest. Like a playlist, not a broken alarm.
It bends without breaking. You can miss a session and not spiral. You can flex around a busy week, a sick child, or a niggle. Because life will get messy.
It includes space for joy - not just in the sessions, but around them. The occasional fun race. A long run with no watch. A mini adventure with friends. Something spontaneous when the mood or weather strikes.
That might not be in the spreadsheet, but it matters.
That’s exactly why I ran the Ranelagh Half; my club’s half marathon. Just two weeks after the Yorkshire Three Peaks. It’s not ideal timing. It’s mid-ultra season but I wanted to be part of it. It’s my community.
Not everything has to be perfectly timed for it to be meaningful. That includes sessions that challenge you. Not crush you.
You should finish feeling like a runner, not a wreck.
If your plan has structure, flexibility, and a bit of mischief, it won’t just help you get fitter. It’ll keep you in the game long enough to get somewhere good.
Find joy in the day-to-day runs
I’m good at sticking to a plan. Ticking the boxes. Suffering when needed.
But there have been phases where I’ve looked up and realised that somewhere along the way, I stopped enjoying it. The structure was there. The effort was there. But the joy?
Gone.
When that happens, I break things up. With unstructured runs, fun events, or races that don’t quite fit the schedule.
You don’t have to give up on your goal when you let some air in. Joy and progress can coexist. In fact, they should.
Steve Magness puts it well in Do Hard Things: “Real toughness is experiencing discomfort or distress, leaning in, paying attention, and creating space to take thoughtful action.”
It’s not about pushing through blindly. It’s about noticing when something’s not working and being smart enough to adjust. If you're stuck in a rut, try flipping the script:
Go off plan.
Swap your usual tempo loop for a slow, rambling run in the woods.
Run an off-road lap of Richmond Park; the 20 Ponds route is an awesome one: ranelagh-harriers.co.uk/20-ponds
Do what my wife, Sally, does - plan your long run around a bakery stop.
Hop on a train to Box Hill, follow your nose for two hours, and train it back.
Add just enough mischief to remember why you do this.
Running doesn't need to be a spreadsheet. Sometimes it just needs a view, a friend, and a croissant.
If you’re not having fun, you’re doing it wrong
Some hard runs are inevitable. That’s training. But if it all feels heavy, it’s time to step back and reassess.
You can be tough, goal-driven, and consistent. And still love it. In fact, loving it might be the secret you’ve been missing.
Running doesn’t have to be a grind to be worthwhile. It doesn’t have to hurt to count. The best runners I know train hard, but they also smile a lot. They laugh. They switch things up.
They treat it as part of their life, not a test of their worth.
And they keep running. Year after year. Because it makes them feel more alive, not more tired.
This isn’t about opting out - it’s about staying in. Staying engaged. Staying sharp. That’s what joy lets you do.
Joy isn’t optional. It’s the foundation.
So if you're sitting there considering whether skipping is better than running….
… ask yourself this instead: Which one would actually make me happy today?
Then go do that. That’s the run that matters.
And if you keep choosing joy more often than not?
That’s the path that keeps you running.