Last week, I wrote about finding your thing.

That little moment of recognition when you realise:

“Wait… this is what I’m good at. This is what lights me up.”

But here’s the twist I’ve been thinking about ever since:

What if your thing didn’t start with you?

When I was a kid, I’d sit on the floor of my dad’s home office — legs crossed, back against the radiator — watching him work.

He was self-employed. Ran his own business. Wore slippers while he did it.

It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t flashy.

But I remember thinking:

He works for himself. From home. On his terms.

And every Wednesday and Saturday, wind or rain, he’d show up on the sidelines to watch me play sports.

He was always the only parent there.

No briefcase. No tie. Just him. Present. Watching.

My dad is pretty cool, I thought.

And that thought? It stuck.

My mum? She’s the creative one. Always dreaming up something.

For example, Birthday cards from her weren’t just signed — they were novels.

She made ordinary things feel… like they mattered.

So, is it really any surprise that I ended up here — Working for myself, from home, writing long newsletters that probably could’ve ended three paragraphs ago?

The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

And sometimes, the seeds of your thing are planted long before you notice them.

But here’s where it gets interesting...

Knowing where you come from is only half the story.

The next part?

How do you bring your unique gifts to the world?

Let me explain using running as an example.

When you run regularly, you get comfortable doing certain distances.

For me, 3 miles? Easy. I know I can do it, so I do it a lot.

But the moment you push beyond — say 5 or 6 miles — it feels different.

Unfamiliar and risky.

Not because your legs can’t do it, but because your brain hasn’t been there before.

When I was training for an Ironman.

I was never going to reach my goals by doing what was comfortable.

Given the sheer magnitude of the task at hand, I had to step out into the unknown.

So each session, I’d add two extra miles.

Not because I wanted to… but because I knew that’s where the growth was.

The first few miles were familiar. But those final two?

That’s where my real training began.

That’s where the doubts kicked in — and where I learned to run through them.

Growth never happens on the comfortable miles.

It shows up in the part you’ve never run before.

The Two-Mile Rule

I now call this “the two-mile rule”

That sweet, slightly uncomfortable stretch beyond what you already know.

And that’s what finding your thing requires:

1. Recognising the seeds you’ve inherited (thanks, Mum and Dad).

2. And being brave enough to run into the unknown and explore your unique gifts.

But most of us? We stay in the known.

We keep to our same routines and rituals.

We get the same results.

So, here’s your gentle nudge for the week ahead:

☀️ Start with your roots.

What came naturally to you — even as a kid?

What gifts did you inherit from your parents?

⚡️ Then, step into the unknown.

Run two miles further.

Do the thing that’s been sitting in your “maybe someday” list.

You don’t need to sprint — just take one small, awkward, honest step.

Make the call. Send the message. Raise your hand. Try.

Because if you only focus on what you already know.

You’ll keep getting what you already have.

But if you dare to stretch, even just a little.

You create space for something new to grow.

That is where you find your magic.

Your roots matter. But so does where you run next.

Have a great week ahead,

Kia kaha & love

Chris