🎙 Podcast Title: Scared, Queasy, and Still All In
🎧 Podcast Intro:
Hi friends, and welcome back to Running to Myself. I’m Trisha Stanton—life coach, marathoner, and your guide through the sometimes messy, always meaningful, process of personal growth.
Today’s episode is for anyone who’s in that frustrating middle part. You know the one I mean—the part where something new has lost its shine and now it’s just… hard.
If you’re feeling stretched, scattered, or like your nervous system is on high alert from trying something new—this one’s for you.
Let’s talk about what it really means to grow—and why discomfort is often the best sign that you’re on the right path.
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🟡 The Middle is Messy
I’m learning some new things right now. And you know how exciting it feels at first when you're starting something new? All the possibility and inspiration?
Yeah… I’m past that part.
Right now, I’m in the “this feels really hard and totally foreign” stage. I’m walking around most days feeling like my nervous system is on fire. And to be honest, my house has never been cleaner—because when the learning feels overwhelming, sometimes I need to walk away and do something that brings quick satisfaction. A tidy drawer, a wiped-down counter. Anything that gives me a win.
And here’s the part some of you—especially my former students, athletes, and current coaching clients—might find a little satisfying:
I’ve spent years pushing others to grow.
To stretch.
To get uncomfortable in the name of becoming who they’re meant to be.
And here I am… right in the thick of it myself.
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🟡 Doing the Work, Feeling the Burn
As a cross country coach, I had one core rule:
I never asked my athletes to do something I hadn’t done myself.
That’s where the trust came from.
As a mindset coach, I do the same.
I won’t give you tools I haven’t used, and I won’t push you toward something I’m not also willing to do.
So today, I want to pull back the curtain and share a few stories of how I’ve been intentionally choosing discomfort—both physically and mentally—in the name of growth.
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🛩 The Sea Plane + the Stomach Flip
Last year, my husband and I kicked off summer with a trip to Key West—sun, salt air, and slow mornings with Cuban coffee in hand. But the real adventure came when we booked a flight to the Dry Tortugas National Park… on a sea plane.
And we weren’t alone—we took the trip with some family and dear friends, which made it even more special. There’s just something about sharing a once-in-a-lifetime experience with people you love. We were all buzzing with excitement as we boarded the tiny plane, ready for an unforgettable day.
Now, if you’ve never taken off from water before, it’s a whole different kind of thrill. The moment the pontoons skimmed the surface and lifted us into the air, I felt like a little kid—wide-eyed, slightly nervous, but mostly amazed. The plane was small, maybe ten seats, and the windows gave us front-row views of the turquoise water stretching endlessly below.
And here’s where it gets funny…
I’m the daughter of a retired airline pilot. I grew up on airplanes. Some kids had minivans and road trips—I had standby tickets and jet engines. Flying is in my blood. I’ve been on more planes than I can count.
And yet—I still get motion sick.
Not every time. Just enough to keep life interesting.
At first, I was doing great. Until the pilot—clearly thrilled to show off the beauty of this place—began circling lower and lower, pointing out shipwrecks, sea turtles, and nurse sharks gliding through the shallows. I smiled and nodded politely, trying to be present, but inside I was gripping the seat and channeling all my energy into keeping it together.
The flight to the island? Barely made it.
The return flight? A disaster.
I spent the whole ride queasy, sweaty, pale, and silently negotiating with my stomach. I clutched the airsick bag like it was my emotional support companion, praying we’d land before I embarrassed myself in front of our friends.
It was miserable.
And it was absolutely worth it.
Because the Dry Tortugas were stunning. The history of Fort Jefferson, the stillness of the island, the surreal blue water stretching in every direction—it felt like we had stumbled into another world.
It was the kind of day that etches itself into your memory.
And I would choose it again—even knowing I’d feel terrible.
Because sometimes the experience is so much bigger than the discomfort.
And sometimes the best stories start with:
“Okay, I was sweating, nauseous, and holding a barf bag… but wow, was it worth it.”
🛥 The Jet Ski + the Mental Battle
And then… the very next day.
Because clearly, we were on a roll with bold choices.
After surviving the sea plane adventure (barely), our group—signed up for a two-hour jet ski tour around the island. Two. Hours. On open ocean.
Now, let me set the record straight: I’m not new to vacation activities. I’ve snorkeled, hiked mountains and trails, run marathons. But there is one thing I have never liked…
Going fast on something I can fall off of.
Hate it. With a passion.
But everyone else was excited. And I wanted to be a good sport. I didn’t want to be the one sitting out while everyone else was zipping around, making memories. So I gave myself a little pre-game pep talk:
“Just hang in there. Be brave for 20 seconds at a time. You can do hard things… even the dumb ones.”
We get there, and they line us up on the dock like we’re part of a parade. We get our safety briefing—which, let’s be honest, only made me more nervous—and then we’re off.
The guide leads the way. The confident people shoot forward like dolphins on espresso.
And me?
I’m dead last.
Like… dead last in a way that wasn’t subtle.
Clutching the handlebars. Jaw locked. Shoulders up to my ears. Praying that I wouldn’t hit a rogue wave, fly off, and have to be rescued on Day Two of the trip. The water was choppy, and every bump felt like an unspoken dare: “You sure you want to be out here?”
I kept glancing around to make sure everyone was still in sight—and also secretly hoping the tour would be shorter than advertised.
There was no magical turning point. No moment where I suddenly relaxed and thought, This is actually really fun!
Nope.
It was hard. The whole time.
But I finished the tour. I made it. I didn’t fall off. I didn’t quit. And even though I was stiff and mentally exhausted afterward, I was proud of myself.
Because here’s the thing:
It wasn’t about mastering the jet ski.
It was about mastering my mind in the middle of something hard.
It was about honoring the part of me that said, “This feels scary”—and still moving forward anyway.
And that’s the kind of strength that travels with you—long after the vacation ends.
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đź’ˇ So Why Am I Sharing All This?
Because right now, I’m not on a jet ski or a seaplane.
I’m just trying to learn some new technology.
I’m sitting at my desk, feeling overwhelmed and stretched in ways that are deeply uncomfortable.
And I need the same reminders I offer my clients:
➡️ Discomfort doesn’t mean something’s gone wrong.
➡️ you’re growing.
➡️ Growth feels messy in the middle.
If you’re doing something new and it feels frustrating…
If you’ve stepped outside your comfort zone and now everything feels shaky…
If you’ve said “yes” to a new level and now you’re wondering why you’re so uncomfortable…
You are exactly where you need to be.
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✨ Simple Truths to Keep You Moving
Here’s what I remind myself—and my clients—when growth gets uncomfortable:
1. Know your why.
Remind yourself of the reason you chose this path.
2. Take short breaks.
Step away when it gets overwhelming.
Do something grounding. Then come back.
3. Normalize discomfort.
It’s not a sign of failure—it’s a sign of stretching.
4. Track your progress.
You may not be where you want to be yet, but you’re not where you started.
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🎧 Closing Encouragement
So if you’re feeling the heat of discomfort right now, I want you to hear me:
You’re not alone.
It’s not supposed to feel easy all the time.
You are becoming—and that process takes courage.
Don’t back away from your growth.
Breathe through it.
Rest when you need to.
And keep showing up.
You’ve got this.
If you want support navigating your own season of discomfort and growth, I’d love to help.
You can book a free consultation with me through my website trishastanton.com or by clicking the link in the show notes. I’d love to talk about how coaching can support the version of you you’re becoming.
Thanks for listening, friend.
Until next time—keep running to yourself.
