Fatherhood, Ego & The Trail Run That Actually Mattered
What happens when you choose shared experiences in life over personal goals? - Life Coach Australia Insights
Sometimes the hardest part about endurance sports, specifically ultra-running, isn't the suffering.
It’s recognising when the thing you’ve been chasing matters less than the people standing beside you.
Mid-March 2026: The Bright Stampede running festival was on. I’d set my sights on the Skyrun, 20-plus kilometres of brutal climbing and a quad-smashing descent, what goes up comes down substantially faster. Every ounce of my recent training load had been aimed towards this return to the mountain moment: I was ready for more personal growth. My habits were locked, my mindset on-point.
Discipline was well and truly being executed.
But there was another story unfolding.
My seven-year-old son was lacing up for his first 5K trail run. My wife and my five-year-old daughter were stepping up to their own 5K challenge. Three of them, each pushing boundaries in their own way.
I had a choice: pursue my race on Saturday or switch events, enter the Friday twilight 10k and stand by them as they took on their own adventure
At that moment, I realised it wasn’t just a race. It was a reminder of what truly matters.
Simply A Case Of A Man Knowing What Matters Most
In that split second, I let go of the finish line I’d been chasing alone.
The truth is, this is what legacy feels like in real time: showing up where it counts, not just for the individual accolades, but for the people who matter most. So, I decided to join them in the 5K. I would run with Evren, his small strides determined, his eyes wide with wonder. He kept up with many of the adults through the first 70% of the course.
Every step of the way closer and closer to his personal goal.
Meanwhile, Julie and Billie would run at their own pace, the two of them laughing as they tackled their first real trail and then doing their best to keep it together as the distance turned into a real challenge and emotions shifted.
It wasn’t about pace or medals; it was about presence being fully there, feeling every breath, every step, and realising that, in choosing them, I wasn’t giving up…I was building something far bigger. An epic memory for our family vs a solo journey for me.
Another page in the book of legacy
I’m Far From The Perfect Dad
I’d never put myself on a pedestal or claim some flawless model.
I have flaws, plenty of them that trip me up when I least expect it and trip me up even though I can see the situation coming a mile away.
There are times I push too hard, times I get caught up in my own drive, and that intensity, when it’s misdirected, can make me overstep or miss subtle moments.
But here’s the thing. I keep showing up for my kids. I stay engaged, even when it’s messy, because I know that real fatherhood isn’t about perfection. It’s about being present, even when I stumble, and recalibrating, so my kids know I’m here, learning right alongside them.
I hope that one day they can at the very least say “he was there for me”
Don’t Let The Ego Hold You Back
Truthfully, I still wanted the 20k Skyrun.
I wanted the climb. That deep burn in the legs halfway up the mountain where your mind starts negotiating with you.
I wanted the descent. The suffering. The private little moment at the finish line where you think: “Yeah…you dug deep for that one.”
That part of me was still there.
But standing in Bright, watching my son with his race bib on, with nervous little expressions, something shifted.
Because sometimes ego doesn’t arrive as arrogance. Sometimes it arrives as an attachment.
Attachment to the plan.
Attachment to proving something.
Attachment to the version of the weekend you created in your own head weeks earlier.
And the older I get, the more I realise how easy it is to miss what matters while chasing something that only serves you.
The mountains aren’t going anywhere. Another hard event will always appear on the calendar. Another challenge and another chance to test yourself.
But this?
This was Evren’s first real trail run..This was Billie bouncing around telling everyone she was “doing a running race in the mountains”.
This was Julie and I standing there watching our kids slowly learn something important: That hard things are worth doing.
And suddenly my race just didn’t feel as important anymore.
Because there’s a strange emptiness that can come from constantly choosing your own goals over shared experiences. You can achieve incredible things and still quietly miss the moments that actually give life texture.
And honestly, running that 5km with my boy felt bigger than any summit line.
Every few hundred metres I’d hear his breathing change and I’d throw another sentence his way.
“You’ve got this mate.”
“Strong on the hills.”
“Keep moving.”...“Doing good”
Little things.
But I know those moments matter.
Not because I was teaching him how to run.
Because I was teaching him what support feels like when things get hard.
The Joy In Life Matters
One of the things, if not the single greatest thing, that brings me joy is seeing my kids try.
Seeing them put effort in and do their best…there’s honestly nothing else like it.
I don’t care what it is.
School work, painting a picture, playing sport. Showing kindness and care to each other, which happens on the odd occasion…Some work to do there!
That stuff matters to me.
Not because I need them to become exceptional at everything they do, but because I want them to engage fully with life. To stay curious. To keep attempting hard things even when they feel uncomfortable.
I want them to embrace trying to achieve progress in all that they do
And standing there in Bright watching my kids tackle those trails, I realised something. This is the stuff I’ll remember when I’m old. Not another race result or another event medal sitting in a drawer somewhere.
This.
Watching my family do hard things together.
Watching my son push through the hills. Watching my daughter keep going when the excitement wore off and the effort became real and the tears were flowing.
That’s the joy.
And honestly, I think moments like these matter far more than we realise while we’re busy chasing the next thing.
Is there a moment in life right now that you're missing?
PS: How did my race go? The Friday 10km Twilight run was hectic to say the least.
Basically straight up one side of a mountain and back down the other. It was hard climbing to begin and fast and furious to close. I loved every moment knowing that Saturday morning was all about our family growing together by doing hard things.
Book your free 30-minute exploratory call with me today and create a new life by taking intentional action to change
