Marathons are having a moment. But the mindset of going the distance? Creatives have had that for a long time.
My dad used to say: “Do it in a way that lets you do it again tomorrow.”
In my twenties, I mostly used that logic to ration my social life – tried to, at least. Now it’s the thing I come back to whether I’m clocking kilometres at 5am or staring down a brief due on Friday at 5pm. Because getting to a great idea works a lot like marathon training: consistency over intensity, discomfort over dopamine, and learning not to quit when things stop feeling exciting.
Sign Up First, Panic Later
Taking a brief is a lot like signing up for a race. The moment you commit, your brain starts spiralling: Am I prepared enough? Capable enough? Stable enough to willingly choose this?
The point isn’t to begin fully prepared. It’s to begin. Because commitment changes behaviour, you make time, pay attention and show up differently. The confidence usually arrives later.
Study the Route
Not all briefs are created equal, and no two routes are the same. Some are uphill, others downhill. And some are technically a marathon but spiritually an ultramarathon because the client has a list of objectives so long that the PDF reads like War and Peace.
Study the route. Dissect the brief. And figure out what and who you need alongside you to navigate it.
Plan for Success (or at Least, for Showing Up)
Here’s the unsexy part: creating the conditions for a good idea takes more discipline than the idea itself. Motivational posters call it “organising for success”.
I do this by putting out my running kit the night before and putting on my running shoes before I look at my phone. Because the second I do, I’ve handed the morning to someone else’s agenda.
Creative work works the same way; the freedom to get to a good idea usually comes from structure, not chaos. Tone guide, C.I., research – save it all in one place. Know your deadline. Brave the existential dread of the blank page by filling it with thought-starters… however wild they might be. Then, press pause on your inbox and start the work.
Ask for Help Before You Hit the Wall
At some point, the training high wears off. The idea that felt fresh on day one starts feeling thin by day 15. That’s the wall.
And in marathon training, you don’t smash through it blindly. You adjust. Change pace. Switch terrain or route. Sometimes progress comes from seeing the same distance differently. Creative work is no different.
Bring in fresh eyes. Share the half-baked version with the strategist who’s read everything or the creative who always asks the uncomfortable question. You’re not outsourcing the idea; you’re pressure-testing it.
Then leave the building entirely. The best breakthroughs rarely come from staring harder at the same problem, but from shifting your frame. A gallery. A walk. A different part of the city. Anything that reconnects you with actual life. The internet is an option. It’s just rarely the most interesting one.
Rest is not the reward. It’s the method. There’s a reason the “shower thought” cliché exists. When you stop aggressively feeding the problem, your brain keeps working quietly in the background – connecting things you didn’t realise were connected. Then somewhere between watering the plants, doing the washing or finally catching up on timesheets, something clicks.
Run the Race
Race day is pitch day. The decisions are made, the work is behind you, the idea exists. And now, you run with it.
You’ll have moments where you think you’ve completely missed the mark. Moments where everyone else seems faster, sharper, more certain. The temptation to compare is enormous. But you stay with it. You stay your course. And eventually, you finish.
Maybe not first. Most of us won’t. But somewhere in the crowd – the agency, the client meeting, the feedback session – someone sees what you made and thinks: I want to do that. That’s the ripple. That’s the point.
On the way home, exhausted and slightly destroyed, swearing you’ll never do it again, you’ll already be thinking about the next one. Because you’ve done it in a way that lets you do it again tomorrow.
