Prathima's Miles & Milestones

Because slowing down can actually make you stronger

I used to think I wasn’t a “real” runner. Because a runner implied running constantly from the start to the finish line.

You know — the kind who glides effortlessly through the miles, always in motion, barely breaking a sweat, normal breathing, galloping like a race horse, looking like they could go forever with consistent pace in the mode of inertia, like Newton’s third law!

I’d scroll through Strava for the splits and the average pace to see perfectly timed splits, podium wins, and those post-run selfies that screamed effortless strength. Meanwhile, there I was, gasping halfway through my route, negotiating with myself about when to take a walk break, counting the number of trees and poles or the passerby.

At first, those pauses felt like failure. I’d glance at my watch and feel guilty, as if stopping for thirty seconds erased all the effort I’d already put in. The change in heart rate and average pace would be affected, of course. Gladly, I did not pause my watch, which stops recording all important numbers during those minutes of break or walk. Moreover, I don’t want the elapsed time, as I want consecutive hours of training by hours on feet, which helps me gauge my endurance and stamina during my ultras. But over time — and through a few too many overtrained injuries — I started to realise that walking didn’t mean I’d given up. It meant I was still in it.

It was a humid Sunday morning — the kind where even the air felt heavy as it was humid. I set out determined to run five kilometres without stopping. By the second kilometre, my chest was tight, my pace had dropped, and my body was screaming no more.

Normally, I’d push through, because that’s what “real” runners do, right?
The initial kilometres are always tough, post that it’s a breeze as the body is warmed up, heart rate adjusts, and pace picks up. But that day, I stopped. I slowed to a walk. I took deep breaths. I let my heart rate settle and noticed the sunrise for the first time that morning.

Then, when I was ready, I started running again — lighter, calmer, and oddly proud. That was the day I stopped chasing perfection and started enjoying the run itself. Walk breaks aren’t a weakness; they’re wisdom. They allow your body to recover mid-run, which often means you can go longer and finish stronger.

Jeff Galloway, an Olympic runner and coach, even built an entire training philosophy around strategic walk-run intervals — and his athletes consistently finish marathons injury-free and smiling. Galloway developed the idea of the “Magic Mile”, a way to calculate a marathon or half-marathon time using a person’s 1-mile time. His endurance training regime, involving alternating periods of running and walking, is known as jeffing.

Taking walk breaks doesn’t make you less disciplined — it makes you more in tune. It’s how you learn to pace yourself, to respect your limits, and to listen to your body instead of your ego. Slowing down can also be a lifesaver, especially if your heart rate gets very high while running.

We forget sometimes that running isn’t just about speed or distance. It’s about presence — showing up for yourself, one step at a time, one day after the other. When you’re out there — whether it’s your first kilometre or your fiftieth — you’re already doing something amazing. You’re pushing past comfort, showing up when it’s easier not to, and building a kind of quiet resilience that spills into other parts of life. You’d also be tackling some of the toughest decisions of life, or just coaching yourself by reflecting. Running is the best solitude or meditation, as you talk to yourself for hours.

So when someone says, “Walk breaks don’t count,” smile and keep moving. Please do not be ashamed. Because you’re already lapping everyone still sitting at home waiting for the “perfect” day to start. Since the running schedule all across the world starts on Tuesday with easy runs, fartlek, speed runs, uphill runs, long runs during the weekend and the next day, followed by a recovery run, not all runs are the same. Here’s what I’ve learnt from various mentors and coaches over the years.

• Some runs are for strength, others for sanity. Both count.
• Rest and recovery are part of the training — not a reward.
• Slowing down doesn’t erase your progress; it protects it.
• Every runner — fast or slow, seasoned or new — fights their own internal battle with pace, pride, and patience.

Now, when I take a walk break, I don’t feel guilty. I breathe deeper, smile at passing runners, and remind myself that I’m still part of the tribe.

Because running isn’t about perfection — it’s about persistence.
And whether you’re sprinting, jogging, or walking for a few moments in between, you’re still moving forward.

If this resonated, you might enjoy my weekly reflections on mindset, fitness, and conscious living — subscribe to me on Medium or Substack or my personal blog, where I write about the balance between motion and meaning.