Wake the f*ck up.
What if life could be lived two or three times larger than it is right now?
It can. All it asks, is your focus. Most people never find it. They move through life on autopilot. Half-present in conversations, scrolling through hours, drifting from one routine to the next. They don’t see that every moment has another layer hidden beneath it. The same action, the same scene, can be lived richer — two or three times richer — if you notice the detail.
Running taught me this. The early miles where not easy, I don’t collect medals or rarely pay attention to the data on my watch. The lesson came in the felt sound. The impact of foot on floor. The quake through the body. The rhythm of left and right, when I’m really lucky sometimes falling into sync with another person until we were no longer two separate runners but a single beat. That’s when the act magnifies. That’s when it grows bigger than itself.
It isn’t just running. Rhythm is everywhere. In the way you eat, the way you speak, the way you sit down to work or pick yourself up again when the day knocks you flat. Get the rhythm wrong and life splinters: scattered thoughts, fractured attention, energy wasted. Find the rhythm and everything aligns. The same workload feels lighter. The same conversation goes deeper. The same day carries you, instead of grinding you down.
This is the system we forget to learn. Pace. Cadence. Rhythm. We think success is about effort or talent, but the truth is more mechanical. It’s how you set your beat. Too fast and you burn out. Too slow and you stall. But catch the right cadence — the one that fits you — and the world sharpens. The noise falls away. Life itself feels magnified.
Running is my drug. I need it. I want that moment — the moment when all of this comes together in synchronicity. When the rhythm steadies, the noise falls away, and life feels bigger, richer, untouchable. That’s what I chase, every time I put one foot in front of the other. Every moment enlarged. Lived to its fullest. Three times larger. My life lived longer. And full of purpose.
This week: Don’t drift. Notice the detail. The sound of footsteps. The cadence of your day. The rhythm is there, waiting to be caught. When you find it, life opens — bigger, richer, full of joy.
