If I Hear "Lock In" One More Time...

Before I get on my high horse, I’ll throw myself directly under the bus. I’ve locked myself into more sports, work goals, hobbies, collaborations, toilet cubicles in shopping malls and, most problematically, relationships than I’d ever care to admit. Bolted. Rusted. Keys long gone.

So this comes from a place of experience. And a pair of metaphorical wire cutters.

If I hear “lock in” one more time in reference to a physical goal, I’m going to scream. It’s red hot in the sporting corners of the internet and increasingly problematic. I’m pushing back on the phrase and its tunnel vision view of drive, passion and productivity. And with any cultural critique, I think it’s only fair to at least offer an alternative, even if it’s a slightly shittier one. I’m trying to keep this solution-based.

I’m gunning for us to replace lock in with “unlock”. And I’ll caveat this by saying I want it to be clear, for once in my life, that I’m not referring to your hips, lumbar spine or hamstrings.

Unlock is definitely less marketable, far less sexy and doesn’t have the whip-tight, jarring feel of ALL IN. But it feels more freeing. I picture open doors, fluid movements and free thinking. And to me, that implies a deeper level of creativity and nuance in your training, goal setting & lifestyle.

“Just lock in mate,” you hear as someone signs up for their fourth half marathon in a few short months.

“Locked in.” An Instagram caption celebrating a 4:30am wake up in the dark to squeeze in a monster workout before a full day of work.

“Lock the fuck in.” A Strava caption from a runner who has just churned out a three-hour treadmill run due to wintery conditions with a strapped knee.

Locked in, sure.

But at what cost?

Because when you really pull the phrase apart, it isn’t quite a cheer. It’s more like a militant, hollow chant of ignore the red flags and hyper-fixate on one singular, often physical, goal.

I’m sure it’s intended as a self mantra for betterment but I can’t shake the undertone of self-inflicted entrapment. Predator focus. No side vision. No rear vision. No creativity.

And my hackles go right up.

Probably because I’ve spent a lot of my life locking myself onto various highways with no turn offs. My Type A components driving the bus and the Type B parts blindfolded in the back. I get it. Is it ambition? Ego? Escapism? A mixture of it all probably. And most certainly an unflinching modus operandi of being completely “in charge and in control” of the mission. And this is where I feel we lose control of the wheel. (Also, I’m not a bus or car person. I have no idea why I’m using this analogy. )

And now I’m tired. Exhausted by the relentless and insatiable appetite of goal chasing. Training by feel, moving because you love it and not having a strict program is viewed as insipid, directionless, undisciplined. Particularly within the running demographic.

I’m right in the thick of the hustle and, quite frankly, all I want to do is the exact opposite of locking in: unlock and unshackle. Unchain the Alphaflys. Free the race calendar. Release the run streaks.

Perhaps this is a bit reductive of me, but the real question I keep circling back to is this. Is locking in just a socially acceptable spin on exercise or training addiction?

Tomato, tomahto from where I sit.

I’m getting more and more DMs/emails/texts about femoral/pelvic stress fractures, watching data coming through from the rehab Pilates classes in the app which are all moon boot friendly, and reading article after article about rising stress levels and burnout.

I do get it though. The “normal societal life goals” are becoming more and more out of reach. Not only the ‘expected life milestones’, which I hate even writing, but also the general state of the world. *Gestures vaguely over a smoking fire-pit. So of course it makes sense to chase something tangible and achievable.

It’s even healthy, right?

But here’s where I get stuck.

The very fact that so many people feel locking into a goal is a way to steady life, and then proceed to put life on ice while hyper-fixating on that singular goal, feels deeply confusing to me. We glorify dedication while quietly denying spontaneity. We celebrate discipline while sidelining balance. That’s the part that feels deadset wild. Metaphorically it’s like we’re sitting right next to the key but refusing to use it.

I should probably hold myself accountable here. I had a marathon booked for May 2026. I registered well before I even ran Valencia last year because I was completely locked into the thrill and gnarly beauty of marathon running.

Surely if I went sub-3 in Spain I’d want to better that again?

Could we nip under 2:55? 2:50?

Maybe if I “trained properly and locked the fuck in” I could go faster.

But then I sat with the questions: at what cost? And why?

Why would I want to go again?

And I realised something uncomfortable.

I’d actually hate it.

I unlocked my true desires and what I realised was this:

I don’t like run sessions, I prefer a jog with a podcast and no plan,

I don’t like early starts,

I love running, but I hate long runs,

I love wine and nights out too much to recover at my best,

I achieved my sub 3 goal in Spain & it’s OK to enjoy that without looking for the next one

The sidelines of marathons are the best place in the world. The running-adjacent events, the relays, the Pilates tune ups, the shake outs, the raz ups. It’s soul healing and I thrive there. I belong there.

Paradigm shift unlocked.

I can only speak to my personal experience but the next time you’re about to find a metal bolt and forget the combination lock, I think it’s worth asking a few simple key questions.

What is it that you really love to physically do?

Why am I running, lifting or jumping so hard?

Can we lock out the demons by locking in? Or are we just trapped in a room with them?

There’s a Norwegian saying I love that might be useful the next time someone asks how you are. Or whether you’ve got your next race goal

“Oppe, og ikke gråter.”

It roughly translates to: I’m up and not crying. No locking in. No militant focus. No grand performance of discipline. Just being here. Upright. Getting on with it.

And honestly, with the state of the world and humanity as a whole, that feels like a far more sustainable goal than any hyrox, marathon or dawn session ever could.

🔐 🔒 🔑