Lead From Truth, Not Tension: The Pace That’s Yours Alone

It’s October, and fall has settled in beautifully here in Atlantic Canada. This is the time of year when Mother Nature reminds us—gently and unapologetically—how simple it can be to let go.

Today, I want to share a story.
It’s about running—but not just the physical kind.
It’s about pace. About pressure. About what happens when we finally choose truth over tension.

The Race

Sunday, I ran a half marathon—21.1 kilometres of movement, reflection, and truth. I didn’t do it alone. I ran with a friend who has become one of my favorite humans—the kind of friend you meet through something simple like running and end up sharing deep conversations about life, patterns, and purpose.

Since July 31st, we’d been training together—early mornings, long runs, endless reflections. There’s something about running long distances that opens you up. Somewhere between kilometre eight and twelve, the conversations shift. The pretense falls away, and you meet in that sacred space between breaths.

Last week was taper week—the quiet window before a race when you rest and let your body recover. For me, it meant saying no to other runs, invitations, and distractions. That pause was hard—and exactly what I needed.

Because slowing down isn’t weakness.
It’s strategy.
It’s where clarity catches up with you.

Full Circle Moments

We drove to Moncton the afternoon before the race—my husband running the 5K, my friend and I gearing up for the half. Dinner that night felt like a universe wink: I ran into my old boss, a mentor who saw my leadership long before I did. Moments later, a former colleague walked in—someone I hadn’t seen since 2012.

It felt like the world saying, You’re right where you’re meant to be.

Those connections reminded me that we lead stronger when we’re surrounded by people who have witnessed our evolution—those who can mirror back not just who we were, but who we’re becoming.

Race Day

Race morning was crisp and electric. I followed my grounding ritual, laced up, and joined the crowd. My friend had her eyes on the 1:50 pace bunny, and as I scanned the sea of runners, my intuition whispered:
Not today, Cynthia.

The two-hour pace felt right for me.

And sure enough, within the first few kilometres, things started to go wrong—my bib rubbing against my shirt, my belt shifting, the kind of tiny irritations that grow louder the longer you run.

But then something shifted. I realized I was running through familiar streets—the same ones from my life in Moncton years ago. Memories surfaced like echoes. People, places, patterns.

And it hit me: growth isn’t linear—it’s cyclical.
We loop back to old places not to repeat the past, but to see how far we’ve come.

Choosing Truth Over Tension

By the five-kilometre mark, my energy felt off. The old me would have pushed harder—proving, striving, ignoring my body’s wisdom.

But I don’t lead that way anymore.

Because our culture celebrates speed and sameness, but leadership—the kind that changes lives—requires presence and truth.

So, I looked at my friend and said,
“Go. Run your race.”

And I ran mine.

That moment reminded me: Leadership is learning to listen to your own pace, not someone else’s finish line.

You can’t lead from truth if you’re running on someone else’s rhythm.

I crossed the finish line in 2:01:44. Not my fastest. Not my slowest. But completely mine.
No cramps. No burnout. Just peace.

Success that day wasn’t about time—it was about alignment. About saying no when I needed to. About listening. About trust.

The Mirror of Movement

Every physical experience is a spiritual mirror.
The way we run, work, or love reflects how we lead ourselves.

How often do we measure our pace against someone else’s?
How often do we push past our own wisdom just to keep up?

Real leadership isn’t about speed. It’s about alignment.
It’s knowing when to push, when to pause, when to listen, and when to lead.

The antidote to burnout isn’t balance—it’s truth.
Because when you lead from truth, you stop forcing and start flowing.

Your truth will never look like anyone else’s. And that’s the point.
It might mean slowing down. Saying no. Walking instead of running for a while.
But when you honour what’s true for you, you unlock an energy that no external validation can touch.

So maybe today, you don’t need to run faster.
Maybe you just need to ask yourself:

What pace feels true right now?

That’s how you lead from truth—not tension.

An Invitation

If you’re craving a space to practice this—to live, love, and lead from truth—I’d love to welcome you into a free community with the very tools I’ve used myself: Positive Intelligence practices, the Feelings Wheel, growth prompts, and more

You don’t have to figure it all out alone.
Come as you are—and leave a little lighter, clearer, and more lit up.

Join me inside Be the Light, or let’s walk together in one-on-one coaching here.

Listen to the full episode here: