The Pause Has Something To Say

Hey Team!

After an action-packed five or six weeks, I’m now back home in Tofino for the next couple of weeks. I had to laugh last week when someone asked me, “Man, where to next?” I replied, “My bed. Lol.” I’m incredibly grateful for anyone following along and engaging with what I’m up to... but I also found it funny how quickly it can feel like I’m expected to name the next destination.

Truthfully, I needed to come home. I needed a little space to reflect on the travel, recalibrate, and get ready for what’s next. And every time I do this, there’s something waiting for me in the pause. Sometimes it’s a lesson in personal growth. Sometimes it’s a new perspective on training, business, or life. Sometimes, if I’m lucky, it’s all of the above. Either way, taking time to reflect when I get home always helps me make a subtle adjustment and move forward in a new direction.

This Week’s Shift

If you’ve been here for a while, thank you. You’ve probably picked up that I try to approach life with curiosity, and that I have a spiritual side that believes a lot of this is already written in some way. This past week felt like one of those moments where the message was pretty clear: slow down.

Three weeks ago, two days before heading out for my last stretch of travel, my little Bergotto (Bernese-Lagotto) Coconut suddenly pulled hard on her leash during our walk before bed. She got spooked and jumped a couple of feet. What caught me off guard was how much my finger hurt. I honestly thought I was being a bit melodramatic. I shook it off, carried on with my plans, and flew out the next day for Toronto, Atlanta, and LA. It bothered me throughout the trip, but nothing looked too serious. I did a bit of weight training on the road, though I was mostly running, and I kept going. Then I got home, dropped back into my regular routine, including daily strength work, and everything changed. My right ring finger started swelling, throbbing, and changing colour. I went to the hospital, got an X-ray, and found out my metacarpal has been fractured all the way through for the past three weeks.

That was the reminder. We live in a world where we have access to endless data. I wear multiple wearables. I can see performance metrics, sleep scores, recovery markers, all of it. But deep down, I knew something was off. It had nothing to do with what a device was telling me. It came down to how I felt. And I think that matters more than we sometimes want to admit. Whether it’s physical, mental, or emotional, if something feels consistently off day after day, pay attention. Take agency. Don’t wait for it to magically resolve itself. Sometimes the most important signal isn’t on a screen... it’s the one your body or mind has been trying to send you the whole time.

So yes, I’m typing this one a little awkwardly right now, which is probably why this week’s edition is a touch tighter than usual. Fair reason, I’d say :)

From The Field

Last week in LA, I attended a panel at Koreatown Run Club’s Base Camp during LA Marathon week. The conversation focused on the legacy movement of “Bridge the Gap”, which began more than 20 years ago through run crew legends like Jessie Zapo, Mike Saes, and others who helped shape the global culture in a real way. I felt genuinely called to share a glimpse of that here, out of respect for the people who paved the way.

As many of you know, I’m still fairly new to running. A lot of my credibility in the space came quickly, largely from the recognition around the Whistler FKT ultramarathon. But I’m not new to sport. As a lifelong athlete, and a former National Team athlete, I have deep respect for the roots of any sport. People devote years, sometimes decades, to what they love. They build culture through repetition, sacrifice, and belief. Those early hours shape what the sport becomes for everyone who comes after. That’s why being at that panel meant something. And it made it even more special that I could bring my friend John. He understands the origin stories of sport too through his passion for racing cars, but he didn’t fully know the depth of run crew culture until that night.

Some of the oldest run crews in the world came out of the streets of New York. Bridgerunners is one of them, founded nearly 25 years ago. As I understand it, the name came from a time when the only people you’d really see running over the bridge were the few who were part of that crew. Now there are hundreds out there at any given time. Since then, different members and original runners have gone on to start crews and communities of their own, each carrying a piece of that same street-level culture forward.

With the explosion of running over the past five to ten years, and the rapid rise of run clubs everywhere, I think it’s important to remember the people who built the foundation. Growth is great. Evolution is part of it. But it doesn’t have to be binary. New energy can exist while still honoring the originals. I’ll always remember the greats in other sports... MJ, Gretzky, the ones who changed the game forever. Running deserves that same respect. And so do the people whose footsteps left the imprint for today’s culture to follow.

There’s always something waiting for us in the pause... if we’re willing to listen closely enough. Here’s to trusting what we feel, honoring the people who paved the way, and continuing to move forward with more intention this week.

Catch you on the Start Line,
—Matty