I hit 5,000 miles on my Nike+ running app last weekend.

Five. Thousand. Miles. I still can't get over that number. And the funny thing is… I still don’t think of myself as “a runner.”

But one decision completely changed how I relate to running and, honestly, how I relate to big goals in every area of my life.

Back in 2011, I kept hearing the same warning about entering the corporate world: “Once you start sitting at a desk all day, it’s all downhill from here. ”

I spent plenty of time in the weight room, but I wasn’t a runner. Running wasn’t something I enjoyed. I could barely get through a mile without hating it. But I definitely didn't want to drift into the sedentary life everyone seemed to accept as inevitable. So I set a goal that stretched way beyond anything I’d ever done: I’d run a marathon.

Not because I thought I could. But because the goal was big enough to change how I saw myself.

Mile by mile, something shifted. Three miles became a “short run.” Ten miles became “a longer training day.” And one summer afternoon in 2012, during a run that was supposed to be twelve miles, I felt good enough to keep going… and ran fifteen, blowing past the half marathon distance without planning to.

That moment taught me a vital lesson: If I had only aimed for a half marathon, that would’ve been my ceiling. But aiming for the full marathon turned the half into a stepping stone.

In life and in leadership, our goals often feel impossible when we haven’t even taken the first step. We underestimate how far consistent effort will take us. We forget that momentum reshapes our identity.

We don’t realize how quickly “I could never do that” becomes “I can’t believe I just did that” and eventually, “I do that all the time.”

I see this in leadership constantly. A new manager looks overwhelmed by a responsibility they’ve never held. A team falters because the challenge looks bigger than their current capacity. People define themselves by their starting point instead of their trajectory.

But when leaders set the right goals, goals that stretch capability and reshape identity, teams grow into solving problems they once felt unqualified to touch.

Because the goal isn’t just the finish line. The goal is who you become while training for it.

For the record, I did run the full marathon in October 2012. More accurately… I hobbled through it after injuring my knee in September. I probably shouldn’t have run it, but I don’t regret a single mile. And 14 years later, I’m finally considering trying again.

So here’s your Sunday prompt:
What’s a goal you’ve been talking yourself out of because it looks too big from the starting line? And what’s the smallest distance you can run this week to move toward it?

Momentum doesn’t come from confidence. Momentum creates confidence. And momentum will take you further than you ever dreamed possible.