The alarm goes off at 5 AM, and it looks like midnight. I can see my breath in the bedroom. My running shoes are waiting by the door where I left them the night before, but the bed is warm with the weight of winter blankets. Wife snoozing beside me. No race on the calendar. No training plan to follow. Nobody’s expecting me to show up.
I don’t really have to get up and run. Right?
This is December in Memphis, and these mornings tell me everything I need to know about discipline.
I've been running early mornings for years, but winter runs are different. It's cold, it's dark, and you're running alone with nothing but your headlamp and your reasons for being out there. On top of it, I’m from the Deep South. My tolerance for cold is pretty low compared to people who see weeks of snow at a time.
In those moments when conditions run counter to everything you prefer, you find out whether your discipline is real.
The Motivation Trap
Most of us confuse motivation with discipline. Motivation shows up when conditions are right—when you're excited about a goal, when someone's watching, when the weather cooperates.
Motivation gets you to sign up for the race. Discipline is what gets you out the door when everything in you wants to stay inside.
The same principle applies everywhere else: the business calls you don't want to make. The budget review that's tedious but necessary. The family dinner conversation when you'd rather zone out. These moments don't come with applause or immediate gratification. They just come with a choice.
Nothing has shown this lesson to me more clearly than those dark and frigid mornings when no one else is up.
What the Darkness Shows You
Running in December darkness has taught me three things about discipline that apply far beyond fitness:
First, discipline happens in private.
The work that actually builds character and capability happens when nobody's watching. That's true in business, in parenting, in leadership. The decisions you make when there's no peer pressure, no praise to gain, and no external accountability reveal who you actually are.
Second, discipline compounds slowly.
One winter morning run doesn't change anything. Ten don't either. But 90 consecutive mornings of choosing discipline over comfort change how you see yourself. You build trust with yourself.
When you prove you'll show up for yourself when it's hard, you start believing you can handle other hard things. That confidence doesn't come from motivation or inspiration. It comes from evidence you've created through repetition.
Third, discipline requires systems, not willpower.
I don't leave the decision to run until 5 AM. My shoes are by the door. My clothes are laid out. I go to bed early enough to make the morning possible. I've removed the friction and the self-negotiation.
Willpower is finite. Systems are sustainable.
Whether it's morning runs or business disciplines or family commitments, relying on willpower to overcome resistance is a losing strategy. Build the system that makes the hard choice easier.
The Real Test of Willpower
If you can't trust yourself to do what you said you'd do when nobody's looking and conditions aren't ideal, how can you expect to follow through on bigger promises? How can you lead a team through difficulty if you can't lead yourself through discomfort? How can you build something meaningful if you only show up when it feels good?
The winter morning run isn't about fitness or training plans or race preparation. It's about proving to yourself that you're the kind of person who does hard things simply because you said you would.
That identity—built one uncomfortable morning at a time—is what carries you through challenges that actually matter.
What’s Your Winter Morning Run?
Find something that tests your commitment when conditions aren't ideal, when nobody's watching, when motivation has left the building.
Maybe it's the early morning brainstorming session before the family wakes up. Maybe it's the evening routine with your kids when you're exhausted. Maybe it's the financial discipline that nobody sees, but everyone benefits from. I don’t know what that is for you.
But when you have every reason to stay comfortable, what do you choose? That choice, repeated over time, becomes your character. And your character determines what you're capable of when it actually counts.
I'd love to hear what your version of the winter morning run looks like. What are you showing up for when it's hard?