Three steps to change: lessons on running and the human body

The sky was still dark when we arrived at the track. I’d never raced a mile before, though I’d read Roger Bannister’s story as a child, and had been captivated by this perfect middle distance—too long for pure speed, too short for comfort. Now, at 54, I was finally about to find out what I had in me.

We warmed up for a mile; it was still warm and muggy. When the starter called us to the line, I reminded myself: don’t go out too fast.

As we took off, I stayed patient through the U-turn at the halfway point. Then came the last 400 meters. I was surprised I still had something left and I drove toward the finish with everything I had.

When I crossed at 6:31, I’d run my fastest mile ever. At 54, I wasn’t going to match scores set by those younger than me. My own score wasn’t enough to win any races. But that personal best proved the changes I’d made a year ago actually worked.

Fitness is the great equaliser—one of the few areas where financial status doesn’t determine success. You don’t need expensive equipment or exclusive gym memberships. What you need is discipline and commitment to fundamentals, available to everyone.

Three steps to change

As an endurance athlete, I’d always prioritised mileage above all else. A year ago, I made three deliberate shifts that transformed my performance. This is how I did it.

The first was reducing alcohol, from drinking a glass or two of wine a couple of days a week to one glass of wine per week. The science is precise: alcohol disrupts REM sleep and suppresses growth hormone production, both of which are critical for recovery. Even moderate drinking impairs protein synthesis and elevates cortisol levels. My sleep quality improved within the first month. My resting heart rate dropped, energy stabilised, and inflammation faded. Cutting back on alcohol didn’t just improve my body—it clarified my mind.

The second shift was taking strength training seriously. I committed to two focused sessions weekly, emphasising posterior chain work, core stability, and single-leg exercises. Research shows that strength training improves running economy by enhancing neuromuscular coordination and reducing energy cost per stride. It also increases bone density and tendon stiffness. My stride became more powerful and efficient. Hills that once depleted me became manageable. Chronic tightness in my hips and lower back diminished. I wasn’t just running faster; I was running more durably.

The third change addressed nutrition. I dramatically reduced processed foods and sugar, focusing on whole ingredients. I’ll be honest—this has been harder than cutting back on alcohol. The pull of convenience, sugar cravings, and ingrained habits—it remains an ongoing challenge with many slip-ups during the week and holidays. But the science motivated me: excess sugar drives inflammation, impairs immune function, and creates energy volatility. Processed foods contain inflammatory oils and additives that interfere with recovery. I’ve made real progress, cutting way back on protein bars with ingredient lists like chemistry experiments and prioritising real food: vegetables, fruits, quality proteins, whole grains, healthy fats. Even with occasional slip-ups, the shift has transformed my energy. No more mid-afternoon crashes or starting runs feeling sluggish.

And one more

The other change I made was focusing on interval training. These changes impacted my VO2 max—the maximum oxygen your body can utilise during intense exercise, and a measure of fitness. The mile sits in that brutal zone where VO2 max is king: too long for pure anaerobic power, too short for comfortable aerobic cruising. You’re redlining your oxygen processing for the entire effort. VO2 max isn’t just about interval training. The lifestyle factors I changed—better sleep from less alcohol, improved cardiovascular efficiency from strength training, reduced inflammation from cutting sugar—all helped my body deliver and utilise oxygen more effectively. Beyond performance, VO2 max is one of the strongest predictors of all-cause mortality—stronger than smoking or hypertension. Every incremental improvement reduces mortality risk.

Standing at that starting line, I was there because of choices compounded over time. My 6:31 wasn’t a fluke—it was months of basics executed well. For some, its consistency over a lifetime.

Consistency that counts

The lesson isn’t complicated: consistency with fundamentals beats sporadic intensity. What you need is discipline: the willingness to reduce alcohol, commit to bodyweight strength training, choose real food over processed convenience, and show up consistently. These fundamentals are available to everyone: it doesn’t matter whether you’re chasing a four-minute mile or simply trying to finish strong. Progress shows up when you need it most—like on a cool morning in the darkness, pushing toward a finish line that suddenly feels within reach.