The alarm goes off. It’s early. Too early. But I get up anyway—because I’ve made promises I intend to keep.
Most mornings, before the sun fully rises, I’m out running with my kids. It’s our ritual. Just us, pounding pavement, trading stories between breathes. It’s not just exercise—it’s presence. It’s connection. It’s fatherhood in motion.
After that comes breakfast, school runs, work meetings, tight pharmacy deadlines—and the constant race to get back in time to review homework or make it to a school event. The juggle is real, and it’s relentless.
I’m a workaholic by nature. Excellence matters to me. But so does showing up for my children. And many days, I feel that internal tug-of-war: Should I stay late and finish the report, or leave early and catch my daughter’s school play? Should I chase that promotion, knowing it may cost me time at the dinner table?
Some days, I get it right. I show up—even tired—and see my daughter’s face light up. Other times, I miss a moment I can’t get back. The guilt hits hard. But I keep trying. Because showing up matters. Because legacy isn’t built in grand gestures, but in the consistency of the small ones.
To every dad out there navigating the fast lane: you’re not alone. We all want to provide. But don’t forget—your presence is part of the provision.
Let me share a moment that hit me deeply.
Just past 5 a.m., my son tiptoed into my room and gently woke me up. I was exhausted, beyond tired—every part of me screaming for sleep. But then he said, “Professional footballers train in the snow, Daddy.” I almost cried. A few weeks prior, I had threatened to stop waking him for our morning runs. That morning, he flipped the script—he woke me. His determination sparked something in me. His words became my fuel.
Discipline isn’t just taught—it’s modelled. That morning, I realized that I couldn’t ask for commitment from my children if I’m not prepared to demonstrate it myself.
You see, my son has a dream: to play football at the national level. That kind of dream doesn’t come to life on wishful thinking. It demands training. Stamina. Focus. So, we made a commitment: daily morning runs. That’s the only time that fits our routine. But it’s worth it.
Because dreams don’t materialize from desire alone—they require deliberate, consistent effort.
Have you noticed how often we, as fathers, talk about wanting to spend more time with our children—but then blame work? We dream of financial independence and freedom so we can finally “make time.” But dreams without structure are just fantasies. What are we actually doing today to create the future we say we want?
Sometimes, it means seeking out a coach, mentor, or a like-minded community. I’ve been part of a paid group for years. But here’s the truth: no coach will do the work for you. You still have to show up. You have to take action.
During our morning runs, my son sometimes tries to take a shortcut across the grass. I always say, “Don’t cut corners.” It’s become our metaphor. The easy path may seem tempting, but it doesn’t build the strength needed for the long haul. It’s a lesson I’m learning too—in parenting, work, and life.
We live in a world of shortcuts, instant gratification, and overnight success stories. But real growth takes time. As fathers, we must commit to the process—planting, pruning, and patiently nurturing what we hope to grow.
I want to leave a legacy—not just wealth or memories, but habits, values, and character that can be passed down for generations. I’m not where I want to be yet, but I’m not where I used to be. And that progress—no matter how small—is worth everything.
Science tells us that our behaviours can echo through generations. Imagine a world filled with fathers and sons who value discipline, character, and consistency. That’s the kind of inheritance I want to leave.
What about you?
What daily rituals or habits do you commit to that bring you closer to your dream—or to the kind of parent you want to be?
Thank you for reading. If you’re a father, I would love to hear your thoughts in the comments. What’s your version of the morning run?
Let’s keep showing up—for our kids, for our dreams, and for the legacy we’re building.
– Kelly Kester
