Runners love a good before-and-after.
The glow-up. The “look how far I’ve come.”
The screenshots that promise transformation in two tidy frames.
But running doesn’t happen in two frames.
It happens in chapters.
And when it comes to your form, the real story isn’t in a single still shot. It’s in the thousands of steps, the years of trial and error, the strength you build, the habits you break, and the awareness you develop along the way.
I’ve lived this one in full color.
Below are three images from three very different seasons of my running life:
my first half marathon, a 5K a few years later, and an 8K I ran one week after my tenth marathon. Same runner, completely different mover.
And the real change isn’t what most people think.
Chapter One: The First Half Marathon
Early-era me ran on youthful grit and optimism. I had no idea what my body was doing. I didn’t understand form, posture, or efficiency. I just ran because I wanted to run. And honestly, there’s something beautiful about that.
But when you look closer, you can see the tells: everything was disconnected.
My posture wasn’t doing me any favors.
My stride was long, loose, and leaking energy everywhere.
My arms were along for the ride, not actually contributing anything.
I wasn’t running with my body. I was running despite it.
Chapter Two: The Middle Years
A few years later, I raced a 5K with more miles on my legs and more experience under my belt. I was stronger. I was more conditioned. My endurance was there.
But my form?
Still muscling. Still overworking. Still disconnected.
This is the phase so many runners get stuck in.
You’re fitter, but not necessarily more efficient.
You’re faster, but not actually smoother.
You can do more, but it costs you more.
It’s also the phase where most runners throw in random drills, copy another runner’s posture, or chase external cues like “run tall” or “drive your knees.”
Nothing sticks because nothing is rooted in awareness.
Chapter Three: Ten Marathons In
The third image is from my recent 8K, run a week after marathon number ten. By then, I wasn’t just a runner. I was a student of the craft.
The difference in this photo isn’t about aesthetics.
It’s about connection.
My lean comes from the ankles, not the waist.
My stride is more compact and efficient.
My hips are stable rather than collapsing.
My arm carriage is purposeful and relaxed.
My entire system works together instead of fighting itself mile after mile.
It’s running that feels sustainable, not dramatic.
It’s form that holds up when fatigue hits.
It’s movement that doesn’t drain me before I even get to the good part.
This is what Chi Running, strength training, and micro-form work gave me. Not perfection. Not robotic posture. Just ease.
What Actually Changes Your Form
Let’s clear something up: form doesn’t change because you decide it should. Your body isn’t a software update. You can’t download “better form” overnight.
Here’s what really shifts things:
Consistency over gimmicks.
Awareness over aesthetics.
Connection over cues.
Strength over shortcuts.
Practice over forcing.
Every runner wants to look efficient in a race photo. But the runners who actually are efficient? They don’t chase pretty frames. They chase function that repeats itself until it becomes second nature.
When your movement is grounded, your posture organizes itself.
When your stride comes from your center, your joints stop absorbing the chaos.
When you run with alignment, your body stops fighting you for the first half of every run.
Form follows function.
Function follows practice.
Practice becomes who you are.
Why This Matters Even More for Masters and Menopausal Athletes
The older you get, the less tolerance you have for sloppy mechanics. Hormonal shifts, sleep changes, recovery challenges, and stress all affect how efficiently you move. You don’t have the luxury of wasting energy.
Better form isn’t about looking good.
It’s about running in a way your body can sustain for another decade.
It’s about reducing unnecessary tension.
It’s about getting more out of the miles you already have in you.
And it’s about respecting the reality that your body deserves smarter movement, not harder effort.
The Long Game
If you’re chasing better form, don’t fall for the screenshots.
Don’t assume a single frame is the truth.
Don’t force your way into somebody else’s stride.
Work your way into your own.
My form didn’t change because I wanted it to.
It changed because I learned how to move with more intention, more curiosity, and fewer shortcuts. Because I committed to building a body that could run well for years, not just today.
If you’re ready to move beyond random cues and actually feel what efficient running is supposed to feel like, I can help.
Inside my coaching and my Micro-Form Mastery guide, I teach the exact skills, drills, and micro-adjustments that helped me evolve from “running on grit” to running with real ease.
If you want form that holds up mile after mile instead of just looking good in a screenshot, start here:
Or, if you’re craving personalized coaching, click here.
Better movement isn’t luck. It’s learned. And you can learn it too.