Someone asked me the other day when I was running my next race. I could only smile and say I had no idea. Work makes it difficult for me to train.

I got a quizzical look. I could only shrug. Work gets in the way of the things you love sometimes, even if your work is what you love.

I run for a living. Or at least, that’s what many think. The assumption is I run every day, all day, all the time. I am not opposed to propagating this myth, it’s a good one.

The reality is a bit different. I run. Sometimes, I run a lot. But, the running I do is often not for me.

The running I do is often in the service of others. It’s done to help motivate or inspire a client. It’s done in an effort to help spread the disease.

The running I do is rarely for me. That’s not to say it’s a completely altruistic act. Certainly, I get plenty from running even if it’s not for me per se.

But, there is also plenty I do every day that has nothing to do with running. Most of my waking hours are dedicated to the challenging, frustrating, exciting, stressful, and sometimes boring things one has to ‘run’ a business.

I send some emails. I hustle for new business. I respond to some emails. I make a feeble attempt to stay active on social media.

Many days are a grind. They include a staggering to-do list that never seems to end. Most days end with far too many items uncrossed.

This is the work few people see. This is the work no one really wants to see. It’s not nearly as sexy as the act of running.

The hours I spend getting myself into shape to tackle the latest challenge, the next personal best, or the next race are few and far between. Making something you love your job changes things.

When I first started out, I naively assumed helping others achieve their running goals would dovetail with my own training. Helping others would enhance my own training.

It would be a dream come true. It would be a perfect storm. It would kick ass.

It didn’t work out that way. I discovered you can’t have it all. Compromises have to be made.

It didn’t take long to figure out what had to be compromised. My running took a back seat. The running of those I worked with took the front seat.

It paid the bills. It kept the lights on. It kept my business afloat.

My own running doesn’t do any of these things. I wish it did. But, I am not alone.

There are plenty of runners who can’t make a living off their running. Most can’t. Only a handful (or two) on the planet have any hope of doing so.

I’m very fortunate to be in a position to have a job that involves something I love. But, it’s still a job and running is but a small part of it.