January in Memphis means gray skies, cold rain, and that nagging voice telling you to wait until March to get serious about training. I hear it every year, and every year, I ignore it.
Most runners I know treat winter like a grace period—a few easy months before the "real" training starts in spring. And look, I don’t blame them. As I’m writing this, Memphis is under a rare “Winter Storm Warning,” which means snow and ice. Not exactly our forte down here.
Now, am I going to go run in that? Unlikely. I’m not suggesting we forgo safety in extreme weather conditions. That’s just asking for an unwelcome injury. But uncomfortable conditions are a different story.
It doesn’t matter if we’re talking about ultramarathons or business ventures: the people who wait for perfect conditions rarely achieve what they're capable of.
Embracing the Training Ground Nobody Likes
You remember the tortoise and the hare from childhood, right? I think about that race a lot during winter training (not because I'm slow!) because the tortoise understood something the hare didn't:
Showing up consistently matters more than raw ability you don’t use.
I'm not training hard in winter because I enjoy suffering. I'm doing it because I know it builds resilience, consistency, and confidence to keep going regardless of how I feel.
Building While Others Wait
When I'm out at 5:30 AM in February, the park is empty. No fair-weather joggers. No casual weekend warriors. Just me and maybe one or two other people who understand that hard training in hard conditions builds something you can't get any other way (or maybe we’re just crazy!).
Those winter miles don't feel good in the moment. My hands go numb. My legs feel heavy in the cold. Everything takes more effort than it would in April…and that's why they matter.
Every winter run is practice for the moment in a race when everything hurts, and you want to throw in the towel. When you've trained yourself to push through discomfort in training, you've already won half the mental battle before race day arrives.
This applies directly to how I approach business challenges, too. Our toughest decisions don't wait for convenient timing. The discipline to show up when conditions aren't ideal separates leaders from managers and finishers from starters.
The Discipline Advantage
Motivation is unreliable: it shows up when conditions are good and disappears when they're not. It makes for fair-weather investors and runners who never realize their full potential. Discipline, on the other hand, works regardless of weather, mood, or circumstances.
But I know full well that building discipline is easier said than done. Here’s what I do:
How to Build Discipline When Motivation Fails
Decide the night before — I lay out my running clothes before bed. When the alarm goes off, there's no decision to make.
Make the first step stupid simple — I don't tell myself I have to run five miles, but just get started. Once I'm out there, finishing the run is easy.
Track the habit, not the outcome — I don't worry about pace or distance in winter. The goal is consistency, and seeing that streak builds momentum.
Remove the negotiation — I don't ask myself if I feel like running. Unless I’m sick or injured, how I feel doesn’t matter. The less room for debate, the better.
Use discomfort as data — When a run feels terrible, I remind myself this is exactly the practice I need. If it were easy, it wouldn't be building anything worthwhile.
I want to be clear, here, too: being disciplined doesn’t mean pushing through at all costs. Discernment matters because the cost—the risks—can outweigh the reward. Use your good judgment in those cases.
A Headstart is Worth Your While
By the time March rolls around and everyone else is starting to train, I'm already ahead.
That head start is both physical and mental. I've already built the discipline that will carry me through the hard parts of longer races later in the year.
The same mindset drives business success: building during uncertainty, investing in development when others are pulling back, and maintaining standards when it would be easier to coast.
What season do you do your best training—literal or metaphorical? When have you benefited from pushing through when conditions weren't ideal? Drop a comment and let me know.