I’m lucky to spend a lot of time with my two- and six-year-old. Children are the realest people I know. They aren’t pretending to be someone else. Their feelings are raw. They don’t avoid conflict. They say what they think. There’s no brand, no image—just honesty.
Adults, on the other hand, can be so full of it that we don’t even know who we are anymore. In the age of social media and personal branding, phoniness has exploded. In The Catcher in the Rye, one of my favorite stories, Holden Caulfield loathes this exact thing: “You never saw so many phonies in all your life.” One of the great ironies of the book is that Holden himself is often dishonest and performative.
I relate to that—both his disgust with phoniness and his own capacity to be fake.
As a coach, I sometimes feel pressure to present myself a certain way. I worry people won’t be satisfied if they see the real me: the guy who doesn’t know everything, who isn’t an exercise physiologist, who has doubts about his methods, and who feels insecure about an unremarkable running career.
So what are we hiding from others?
What image are we projecting?
And what does it cost us to live a phony life?
I believe that if we truly trusted in love—if we really believed we are worthy of love regardless of achievement, knowledge, or status—we could loosen our grip on that image we’re so desperately trying to maintain.
But feeling that love isn’t always easy. Life can be brutal and tragic. I’m fortunate to have experienced moments of pure love and oneness, and they’ve stayed with me. On your next run, walk, or quiet moment, try this: slowly think through all the people who have loved you. Start with your parents on the day you were born, then caregivers, grandparents, teachers, coaches, friends, and others. If you take your time, the list can be overwhelming—in the best way.
At the end of every year, I watch Rent. It always reminds me of the same thing: time isn’t really measured by accomplishments or milestones, but by connection—by love.
That’s what I want more of in 2026. Less performance. Less phoniness. More love.
