Culture change is a marathon, not a sprint, and joy is the oxygen that carries us the whole way.
Race morning. No earbuds. Just breath and footfalls. I tug on my hat that simply says “run slower”, and remind myself: I’m not here to win the day. I’m here to finish the distance.
I didn’t grow up running for fun. Where I’m from, you ran only if you were about to get caught doing something you shouldn’t. Then the pandemic came, and I laced up. Since 2021, I’ve run a half marathon every year. Sundays became my long, slow distance days, low heart rate, meditative miles, what I call “turtle running”. Endurance over speed.
My first two half marathons went well. My third? Hot day, brutal wall. Forty minutes of legs like sticks. There’s a whole essay in that race alone. But the last two years have been almost eerily consistent: this year’s time was just ten seconds faster than last year’s, despite a course change that added hills.
The biggest difference wasn’t the clock. It was company.
When Turtles Find Each Other
Around mile six, I fell in with a small flock of fellow turtles. One of them had a tiny speaker; we bonded over our love of music, donuts, and Saturday morning cartoons. The miles began to melt. We even got caught on camera doing the YMCA as the Village People pushed us onward.
The first eight miles were flat. After that, the hills arrived, and that’s when the turtles started passing the hares. Our joy carried us through the hardest parts.
Joy Is an Endurance Strategy
As I ran those first solo miles, my mind drifted to a client project, a six-month cultural transformation we’re leading together. I tell their leadership team all the time: “Cultural change is not a sprint. It’s a marathon.”
Every Monday I send them a short “Monday Motivation”, because leaders are the pacers; they set the cadence the rest of the organization will hold. The day after this half marathon, I wrote:
“If you want to go fast, go alone. If you want to go far, go together. Once again, cultural change is a marathon, not a sprint, and friends, we’re already deep into the course.”
Speed is impressive. Staying power is transformative. And nothing sustains staying power like an Atmosphere of Joy, the kind that turns grind into groove, sprints into strides, and colleagues into pace partners.
Build an Atmosphere of Joy the Turtle Way
Joy isn’t confetti. Joy is oxygen over distance. An Atmosphere of Joy isn’t loud; it’s steady. It’s the feeling that: I’m not running alone. My effort matters. We celebrate the small wins while we climb the hills.
On those long, quiet, meditative miles, ideas tend to surface like turtles coming up for air. Here’s what has risen to the top lately. These practices are simple, steady, adaptable, and repeatable. Feel free to adopt and adapt them to your everyday. Drop me a line and let me know how it goes.
Find a Pace Partner
Don’t run alone. Pair leaders for a 15-minute weekly tempo check: What kept you moving? Where did you drift? Who helped? Swap notes and send each other back into the week.
Lead at a Low Heart Rate
My watch kept whispering “easy effort.” Translation at work: make 80% of culture work simple habits, warm greetings, micro-debriefs, noticing moments, and reserve 20% for hills like policy shifts and rollouts. Guard the easy stuff from turning into accidental sprints.
See the Hills Before You’re On Them
Course changes and construction happen. Map the next 90 days of inclines, seasonal surges, audits, shortages. Pre-stage water and cheer zones: extra hands, clearer comms, visible leaders.
Set Tiny Joy Markers at the Start
Right before the horn, a smile helps. Begin each shift with: one guest to delight, one teammate to thank, one tiny “wow” to create. Write it down. Write down the result.
Walk the Course with Your Ears Open
Running without earbuds taught me to hear the course. Spend 30 minutes a week on the floor: no phone, no fixes, just see, think, wonder. Then act on one insight.
Make Space for Goofy Together
That YMCA moment at mile nine wasn’t strategy; it was fuel. Name a weekly “YMCA Moment”, a quick, safe celebration like a song at close, donut lap, or goofy trophy. The point is togetherness, not perfection.
Debrief Like a Runner
After a hill, runners ask three things: What worked? What wobbled? What will we repeat? Capture one improvement and one thank-you. Share both.
Appoint Your Turtles
Every team has steady pacers who keep things humane. Give them a role: “joy pacers” modelers of calm, connection, and consistency.
Why This Works
People don’t burn out from work alone, they burn out from work without meaning, progress, or belonging. An Atmosphere of Joy restores all three:
Meaning:we connect effort to purpose.
Progress:we see small wins stack.
Belonging:we never climb the hill alone.
Again, Joy isn’t just a burst of confetti for a win, it’s oxygen over distance.
See You on the Course
I still run without music. I like to hear the rhythm of my breath and feet, and now and then, the laughter of turtles keeping pace. My time this year wasn’t just 10 sec faster. It was better. Because it was together.
Build your culture that way. Low heart rate. Long distance. Joy as oxygen.
When the hills come, and they always do, let the turtles pass the hares.
