Running From My Comfort Zone

In 2014, I signed up to run a half marathon. It was part of a college fundraiser for an organization doing incredible work. A bunch of us were running in the Fargo Marathon to raise money and awareness — and I was all in.

Or so I thought.

After procrastinating for a few months, I tried to ramp up into the race with only a few weeks to go. As you can imagine, it did not go well. I remember one miserable four-mile run when my knees started to ache and my legs were toast. I was nowhere near ready. So I bailed. I supported the team from the sidelines, cheered everyone on, but I didn’t run. I gave up. And in doing so, I quietly decided: I’m not a runner.

Fast forward to this summer.

My friend, Paul Hurckman came to speak at our church. He is the executive director of an amazing organization called Venture. They do life-changing work — feeding refugees, fighting human trafficking, and serving people in the toughest places. Part of their model? Invite people to do hard things in order to help people facing harder things.

Paul shared a throwback photo from that 2014 marathon team. The team I was part of. He smiled and kindly pointed out my presence in the photo — even though I didn’t actually run. It was all in good fun. But it stirred something in me.

Something deeper. Something I hadn’t felt in a while.

Then Paul shared something else. He casually mentioned his next challenge: seven marathons on seven continents in seven days — The Great World Race. Yes, you read that correctly… In November, starting in Antarctica, Paul is going to run seven marathons on all seven continents in seven days… All to raise money for people trapped in modern slavery.

After church, Paul and I went to lunch and I obviously asked him more about The Great World Race. We talked about running and he said something that floored me: “I don’t even like running.”

That moment shook me.

Here’s a guy choosing discomfort on purpose. Not because it’s enjoyable, but because it’s meaningful. Because it stretches him. Because it reflects something bigger than himself.

I realized I’ve built too much of my life around the path of least resistance. If something is uncomfortable, I avoid it. If it’s hard, I excuse myself. But I don’t want that to define me anymore. I want to be someone who chooses the hard road when it leads to growth.

So on July 1st, I had an idea. Instead of going all in and signing up for another half marathon, what if I just committed to run ONE MILE this week… And then two… And then three… And just see where it goes.

That first week, I ran one mile. On Tuesday, I ran .5 miles and later that week, I ran .63 miles. Then the next week I ran two. Then three. Then four. This week, I’m running five. And I still hate running.

But I love what it’s doing in me.

It’s building mental toughness. It’s giving me a quiet, slow space to reflect. It’s becoming a way to model resilience for my family.

The other day, I told my 7-year-old daughter I was going for a run. She looked at me so confused — she’s never seen me run in her life.

“Why?” she asked.

I smiled. “Because running is hard for Dad… and I want to do hard things.”

We’ve been talking as a family about resilience. About trying new things. About doing what’s right even when it’s hard — whether that’s eating food we don’t like, navigating friendships, or getting through hard days. This run gave me a moment to show her what that looks like in action.

And something else is happening too.

Running is becoming a quiet act of worship. I pop in my headphones and listen to worship music. For 10 to 15 minutes, I’m not talking, not scrolling, not distracted — I’m just moving and breathing and being with God. And as my body gets tired, my knees ache, and my breath shortens, I’m reminded: God made me stronger than I give Him credit for. He created this body with resilience. With endurance. And this is one small way I’m honoring Him with it.

So I started The I Hate Running Club.

It’s not for runners.
It’s for the rest of us.
The ones who’ve said, “That’s not me.” The ones who’ve labeled themselves. The ones who’ve quit before.

This isn’t about finish lines, streaks, or performance.
It’s about choosing to do hard things — together.
It’s about breaking the mindset that comfort is the goal.
It’s about building something new, one step at a time.

And it’s about encouragement. We’re not coaches or trainers. We’re just people choosing growth. One uncomfortable mile at a time.

So if you hate running, you’re qualified.
If you want to change your story, you’re invited.

➡️ Join the I Hate Running Club on Instagram
We don’t run because we love it.
We run because we hate it — and we’re doing it anyway.

Follow Paul Hurckman’s Great World Race journey