Step...I Don't Even Know Anymore
But if you rearrange "Step" you get "Sept." and it is Sept. 1. Time for Step-tember
This summer has felt like putting one foot in front of the other—literally and figuratively. I’ve been trying to get things in order, hoping to find some balance in life, even when it felt just out of reach. Still, I can see the direction I’ve been working toward, and I’ve started noticing some fruit from that work.
For the first time in a long time, I’ve been running pain-free—for more than four straight months (knocks on wood). That might not sound like much, but for me it has been fuel for the soul. Running had become something I fought through, something I endured. These past months reminded me that running has always been about joy. It can be a release. It can be the space where my mind and body finally breathe together again.
Coming back from injury, the miles can feel like a trudge, as if you’ll never rediscover what once fed you. But consistency pays off. It’s not that I ever hated running (well, no more than the usual sarcastic amount). It just felt like something I was fighting for. It took intentionality—showing up for the thing I loved, even when it was hard.
There were no PRs, and as I look back, I haven’t even run a race since April. This summer was about care. Not just physical recovery, but tending to the places in me that were weary. I’ve learned that care can look like slowing down, resting, or simply taking small, steady steps. Looking back, I can see this wasn’t wasted time—it was groundwork.
Yes, my easy pace is over three minutes a mile slower than it once was—and that’s okay. The mileage continues to build and running feels awesome again!
I’ve got a 5k next weekend (Sept. 6), and I know my time will be nowhere near what it used to be. But I don’t care. Because I’m running again, with a new sense of purpose.
And now, somehow, it’s September. Or as my scrambled title suggests, “Step-tember.” I like the pun because it says something about where I am right now. This isn’t step one. I’m not starting over. It’s just the next step forward.
That step has been easing back into rhythm. I want to write more—not on a rigid schedule, but more regularly than I have in months. I’m thinking about how best to bring the podcast back, though I’m in no hurry to force it. I’m holding onto the freedom to build slowly, to create in a way that fits this season. I don’t know exactly what the next few months will bring, but I sense a shift. Something is stirring toward movement again.
A lot of this comes from a summer of discernment. Not only getting back on the run, but also praying and reflecting on direction going forward. I spent time listening—to God and to myself. I spent time visioning, paying attention to what matters most, asking hard questions about what’s possible, and considering the kind of growth I should seek. None of that has fully taken shape yet, but it’s beneath the surface, waiting. I trust it will unfold in time.
Here’s what I can say for sure right now:
I’m running with joy again.
I’m writing again (we’ll see how it fleshes itself out).
I’m considering how best to bring the podcast back in a sustainable way.
That’s where I am. But this isn’t just about me. I want to pause and turn this toward you.
What’s your September step?
Maybe, like me, you’ve come through a season of healing or care, and you’re beginning to feel ready for what’s next. Maybe you’re still in the midst of that healing and your step is giving yourself permission to rest a little longer. Maybe your next step is creative, vocational, relational, or spiritual. Whatever shape it takes, it doesn’t have to be a massive leap. Sometimes the next step is just the smallest movement forward.
So I want to invite you to reflect:
What restoration have you experienced this summer?
What rhythms do you sense yourself stepping back into this fall?
Where might you be called to move forward, even if it’s just a half-step?
I share my story not just to update you, but to create space for you to ask those same questions for yourself. September always feels like a hinge in the year—the shift from summer into fall, from vacation rhythms back into daily ones. It’s a natural moment to pause, take a breath, and consider what’s next.
For me, that means writing here, experimenting with rhythm, and seeing what might come alive again in the podcast. For you, it might mean something completely different. But whatever it is, I hope you’ll take a moment to name it. To claim it. To let September be your “Step-tember” too.
It’s not step one. Just the next step. And that feels right.