2 Minute Read

Nobody cares what we're doing. And we don't need them to.

When we start running, it’s often for ourselves. But over time, we can start training for other people’s eyes without realizing it. The likes on Strava. The comments from friends about our early mornings. The way it feels when someone calls us “disciplined.” That kind of attention feels good. And for a while, it can even help us stay consistent.

But here’s the truth most of us don’t want to hear: nobody is watching as closely as we think. Everyone else is too busy living their own lives. Nobody cares what we're doing. And that’s not an insult. It’s a gift.

Because the moment we stop needing an audience, we start training for the right reasons.

The Problem With Chasing Approval

There’s nothing wrong with enjoying a compliment. But if we rely on it, we’ve built a fragile routine. When the comments and kudos come in, motivation is easy. When they don’t, runs feel heavier. And if our progress depends on whether someone else notices, we’re putting our consistency in someone else’s hands.

Training for others is like running with the wind behind you. You move effortlessly when it’s there, but when it's time to turn around, you feel every step. That’s why routines built on recognition don’t last. They’re reactive, not resilient.

Why the Best Training Is Unseen

The strongest athletes train the same whether they’re in a crowd or completely alone.

Real progress comes from the efforts that others don't see. And putting in that effort is for us. We don't need outside acknowledgment. And we keep doing it, because we understand the real audience is themselves—five years from now.

That kind of work has a different weight to it. It’s private. It’s personal. And it’s powerful because it doesn’t need validation to be worth doing.

The Shift From Self-Image to Self-Respect

When we train for an audience, we’re managing an image. We want people to see us a certain way, so we curate the runs we share, the pace we show, and even the way we talk about training. But when we train for ourselves, image doesn’t matter anymore. What matters is whether we’re living up to the standard we set privately.

Self-respect comes from doing the work nobody sees. From sticking to the long run when nobody would’ve noticed if we skipped it. From hitting the uncomfortable workouts without needing to announce it. From building a body of work that stands whether or not anyone else knows it exists.

Wrap It Up

We can’t control who notices. We can’t control who applauds. And we definitely can’t control who cares.

But we can control whether we keep showing up.

When we run like nobody’s watching (because they aren’t) we remove the fragile need for external validation. We run for ourselves, for the standard we set, and for the future we’re building. That’s the kind of training that lasts.

With this mindset, we can build a routine we love, and train consistently.