Hold Fast Running Newsletter

Hello everyone, it’s been a minute!

There’s a song that’s stuck with me ever since I first heard it last year, “The Cape” by Guy Clark. It tells the story of a kid who believes he can fly, tying on a cape and jumping without hesitation. I’ve always resonated with that.

In a lot of ways, that’s how I’ve approached running and life. Trusting the cape. Believing that if I was willing to take the leap, something good would come from it. But over time, my understanding of that “leap” has been shaped more deeply by my faith. Not just blind risk or chasing outcomes, but a quiet trust in God’s sovereignty, knowing that every step, every season, and every result is ultimately in His hands.

That kind of faith isn’t about controlling the outcome, but about obedience, being willing to step forward, to work, to strive, and then trust the Lord with whatever comes. Lately, I’ve found myself reflecting more on that… what it really means to trust Him fully, not just in the pursuit, but in every season He has for us.

If you’ve followed along with my journey, you know that running has always been a central part of my life, not casually, but deeply and intentionally pushing toward something. For me, running was never just about going out the door and logging miles. It was about getting the absolute best out of myself. It was about discovering how far I could go, how fast I could become, and how much I was willing to give to find that edge.

Over the years, I grew to love the grind, two runs a day, the extra work, and the small things that stack up over time: strength, recovery, and discipline. I loved it because it produced something, results, progress, breakthroughs. If you do it right, that kind of consistency and volume can lead to something special. And I bought into that fully. I didn’t necessarily love running just to run, I loved what running revealed in me, especially the way endurance produces character, a truth that often brought me back to Romans 5:4.

But the past couple of years have been different.

For the last 3 years, I’ve been battling a hip injury. Like most runners, I tried to push through it, that’s what we do. But pushing through often led to more setbacks, more injuries, and days where I’d find myself limping around at work or at home. What once felt like purpose slowly started to feel like I was just hanging on.

Since college, running has also come with its own set of challenges, no consistent training group, limited structure, and balancing a full-time job. Early mornings, late evenings, and using PTO just to race. Leaving the family in the evenings has been the hardest, my mind would always wander back to them, that I should be home. And if I’m being honest, constantly comparing that reality to professional runners setups can wear on you. It’s not an excuse, this is the reality many amateur runners face.

In 2024, I went all in, rarely missing a day. Sacrifices were made, and time, energy, and focus were poured into chasing something bigger. But getting back to that level, the twice-a-day commitment, the “nothing gets in the way” mindset, has been harder than ever. Life has a way of shifting priorities, and for the first time in my career, running started falling behind everything else.

And that’s been tough to accept.

Because for so long, I believed that if I just worked harder, if I just stayed disciplined enough, I could control the outcome. But this season has reminded me that some things are simply out of my control. And for the first time, I’ve felt defeated by that.

One of my next goals was to make it to the 2028 Olympic Trials, not just for me, but for my son. I wanted him to see firsthand what hard work, discipline, and belief can do. To show him that even from a place like Kansas, with limited resources, you can still chase something big, you just have to be willing to dig a little deeper than most.

But right now, I’m choosing to step away from the grind of elite racing.

This isn’t giving up on running, and it’s not closing the door forever. It’s an honest acknowledgment of where I’m at, physically, mentally, and in this season of life and a choice to be more present where it matters most: in my marriage, in my walk with Christ, and in being there for my son.

Running has given me so much. It’s shaped who I am. And while this chapter looks different, the lessons, discipline, and identity built through the sport won’t just disappear. Maybe for the first time, I’ll learn what it looks like to simply run and maybe that’s something I’ve needed all along.

To wrap this up, I’d be lying if I said this doesn’t come with some fear. I know I’ll miss the chase. I’ll miss the process. I’ll miss the adventure. I will for sure miss my friends!

But as I step into what’s next, I hope that never leaves me, that I’ll always be the kid willing to tie on the cape, take the leap, and embrace whatever comes with it.

Thanks for being part of the journey. God's timing is cool, JJ’s second birthday is tomorrow and I’m not sweating about running a long run.

Love y’all
—Brett