Coach JP and the crew after the 2016 Spartan Race Red Deer Super
Strong Enough to Talk: How Training Builds More Than Muscle
Movement isn’t just therapy for the body. It’s a lifeline for the mind.
For many men, training begins as a way to get fit, lose weight, or prove something to ourselves. But the longer you stay in it, the more you realise the reps, the miles, and the sweat are about something deeper. They’re about learning how to stay present under pressure, how to breathe through discomfort, and how to keep moving forward when everything in you wants to stop.
That’s where strength training, running, or any form of consistent movement becomes more than physical practice. It becomes a rehearsal for life. And perhaps most importantly, it becomes a way to reconnect with yourself, and eventually with others.
During Movember, when the spotlight is on men’s mental health, I want to explore how training doesn’t just build muscle. It builds resilience, self-awareness, and, if we let it, the courage to talk.
The Evidence Is Clear: Movement Changes Minds
Over the past two decades, research has drawn a clear connection between physical activity and improved mental health outcomes in men. Studies show that regular movement reduces depression, anxiety, and stress while improving self-esteem, cognitive performance, and emotional regulation (Healthy Essentials Clinic, Healthi Life, Cogent Clinic).
Exercise triggers the release of endorphins and serotonin, both essential to mood regulation and emotional stability. It also reduces stress hormones like cortisol and adrenaline, helping men manage daily pressures more calmly. Improved sleep quality, sharper focus, and a more positive self-image all follow from regular movement.
Just as importantly, movement builds connection. Team sports, group training, and even casual running clubs create community and reduce isolation. Research from the Canadian Psychological Association highlights that even moderate activity, around 30 minutes a few times a week, can produce significant benefits. You don’t need to train like an athlete to feel the mental payoff.
These findings aren’t just about brain chemistry. They’re about identity. Training gives men something we often lose in adulthood: a structured outlet for challenge, growth, and purpose.
Coach JP at the start of the 2023 Valley Vertikiller
Recreational Hardship: The Practice of Grit
In my world, I often talk about recreational hardship which is the deliberate practice of doing difficult things, physically and mentally, by choice. It shows up in small ways, like showing up to train when you would rather stay home, and in big ones, like setting out to run hundreds of kilometres in a month.
That concept is central to both how I train and how I coach. It is about leaning into challenge, knowing it will test you and teach you.
On the day-to-day level, it looks like getting the work done when life feels messy. Those moments build the muscle of consistency. (If you missed it, my earlier post Discipline Isn’t What You Think It Is dives into this idea in more depth.)
Then there are the bigger tests, the projects that push every boundary. My Move for Mental Health challenge this month is one of those. I have committed to covering more than 300 km in November, with a stretch goal of 600 km. I might not make it. That is fine. The possibility of failure is part of the point.
Taking on something that might defeat you teaches humility. It sharpens self-assessment. It builds the ability to keep going, even when there is no guarantee of success.
The Vertikiller Lesson
In 2023, I fractured my ankle less than 3 km into the Vertikiller 30 K trail race. It was a brutal course on a good day, and that day quickly turned into hours of suffering. Every climb and descent was...uncomfortable, to say the least.
But rather than quit, I assessed. I checked my pain levels, made sure I wasn’t causing further damage, and decided to keep moving. Each kilometre became an exercise in mindful awareness, accepting what was, adjusting when I could, and refusing to catastrophise, even when I rolled my ankle again at around the 10 K mark.
That race reinforced more lessons about composure than any textbook ever could. It reminded me to recognise when my mind was spiralling into self-blame and to pull it back. To breathe, to focus, and to separate what happened from who I am.
That same process now shows up everywhere else in my life. When I am tackling a tough work project, when a conversation feels uncomfortable, or when the urge to procrastinate creeps in, I can draw on the memory of that day and remind myself, You have done harder things before. You can do this too.
Strong Enough to Feel
There is a fine line between grit and guardedness. The same mental toughness that gets you through a marathon or a heavy lift can, if left unchecked, make it hard to ask for help.
As much as I admire David Goggins for the things he has overcome and achieved with his relentless work ethic, his “stay hard” mantra can sometimes let people down. It can feed the belief that if we were truly strong, we would not struggle at all, that we should be better than this, that we can just grind our way out of pain.
Here is the truth. The strongest people I know are the ones who are self-aware enough to know when they need support. They can push hard when it is time to dig in, and they can step back when they are depleted. They understand that rest and reflection are part of resilience.
Physical training offers the perfect laboratory for that kind of awareness. You learn how to interpret the tension, fatigue and pain as feedback from your body and decide how to respond. The same skill applies to mental health. Strength is not the absence of vulnerability. It is the ability to stay present with it.
The Gym as a Low-Risk Arena for Honesty
Inside the gym, this balance plays out every day. My coaching style revolves around regular check-ins.
“How’s that feeling?”
“Anything tight or off today?”
“Do we push or pull back?”
At first, clients answer in physical terms, a sore elbow, a tired back, a long day at work. Over time, those small acknowledgements open the door to bigger ones. The moment someone says, “Honestly, it’s been a rough week. I almost didn’t come in,” something shifts.
That is when the gym stops being just a training space and starts becoming a safe space. When clients learn that it is okay to admit they are struggling, physically, mentally or emotionally, they begin to approach their workouts, and their lives, with more honesty.
It starts with a small admission: “My shoulder feels off.”
Eventually it becomes: “I am feeling off.”
That transition matters. It is the practice of vulnerability in a controlled environment. It teaches people that being open does not mean being weak. It means being real.
Coach JP and his training partner, Steve, at the lookout on McKee Peak / Ledgeview
Movement Opens the Door
Psychologist and author Richard Reeves has written and spoken about how men often connect best “side by side” rather than face to face. It is one of the reasons conversations tend to flow more easily when we are working on something together, fixing a car, playing a sport, hiking a trail, than when we are sitting across a table trying to “talk about our feelings.”
I see this play out every week. Some of the most meaningful conversations I have ever had with clients have happened mid-set, between runs, or while cleaning up the gym. When men share space and purpose, the pressure drops. The guard comes down. Words start to flow naturally.
It’s something I really value about the time I spend with one of my most frequent running partners, Steve. We talk about…literally, almost everything…LOL. From cars and household DIY stuff, through to the challenges of fatherhood, being a husband / partner, planning for retirement, career and professional stuff, and all the other things we’re struggling with. It all just flows alongside our shared physical suffering out on the road or on the trails, and I often come out of those times with a clearer head or a different perspective on what I’m dealing with.
In those kinds of moments, people often realise they are not alone. They hear themselves reflected in someone else’s story, and that small recognition can be powerful. It breaks the illusion of isolation that mental health struggles often create.
The key is creating environments where those “side-by-side” conversations can happen more often. It does not have to be a gym. It could be a run club, a hiking group, or even a backyard project with a friend. The setting matters less than the shared action. Movement gives us permission to talk.
A Sound Mind in a Sound Body
There is an old Latin phrase, mens sana in corpore sano, which means a sound mind in a sound body. That is really the heart of this whole discussion.
The physical benefits of training are easy to see. The mental ones are quieter but just as powerful. When you train regularly, you are doing more than building muscle or endurance. You are reinforcing identity. I am someone who takes care of myself. I am someone who shows up.
For me, that identity runs deep into the mechanics of how I move. Trail running is a form of moving meditation. It demands full presence. Every foot placement, every breath, every adjustment to the terrain. Road running offers a different kind of clarity. I leave the headphones behind, tune in to the rhythm of my steps, focus on relaxing unnecessary tension, and use conscious breathing to control heart rate.
In the gym, the same principles apply. It is not about psyching yourself up to lift something heavy. It is about calm execution. You learn to engage where you need to, relax where you can, and shift between intensity and recovery through your breath. That constant toggling between sympathetic and parasympathetic states is training for emotional regulation.
Over time, those skills bleed into daily life. You get better at noticing when stress spikes, when your body tenses, when your breathing shortens. You learn to respond, not react. That is where training becomes self-care in its truest form.
The Ripple Effect
When movement becomes part of your mental health toolkit, its influence extends far beyond the gym.
You handle stress differently. You sleep better. You connect with others more easily. You start seeing effort as something that renews you instead of drains you.
If you are part of a supportive training community, that effect multiplies. One person’s willingness to open up gives permission for others to do the same. That is how culture shifts, one conversation, one workout, one honest check-in at a time.
Here in Abbotsford, I have seen it first hand. When clients and friends start sharing what is really going on, it deepens not just their training but their relationships. They lift better, yes, but they also live better.
That is the essence of being strong enough to talk.
Keep Moving, Keep Talking
If there is one message to take from this piece, it is this. Training and talking belong together. Building physical strength should never come at the cost of emotional isolation.
So wherever you are, whether you are running, lifting, walking, or just trying to hold it together, remember that movement and conversation are both forms of healing. You do not have to choose one.
If you are local here in Abbotsford and want to explore training with me, or if you would like to join one of our group runs or hikes, reach out. Training with me is available through our membership options, but our group runs and hikes are open to everyone. No commitment. No membership. Just good people moving together. Either way, reach out through our Contact Us page to get in touch.
Need to Talk?
If you are struggling or just need someone to listen, please reach out. You can contact me directly through the Contact Us page. I am always happy to have a chat and help point you toward helpful resources.
For those of you here in British Columbia or anywhere across Canada, there are also free, confidential support lines available 24 hours a day, 7 days a week:
1-800-SUICIDE
If you or someone you know is in crisis, this line provides confidential support for anyone feeling suicidal or concerned about someone else.
Call 1-800-784-2433 (toll free in B.C.)
Call or text 9-8-8 (toll free across Canada)
Mental Health and Information Support Line
Connects callers experiencing a mental health crisis to a B.C. crisis line without waiting or busy signals. This number also offers emotional support and referrals to appropriate services.
Call 310-6789 (no area code needed in B.C.)
You are not alone, and reaching out is a sign of strength, not weakness.
Support the Cause
You can support my Move for Mental Health challenge and help fund Movember’s work for men’s mental health, suicide prevention, prostate cancer, and testicular cancer.
Donate via Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/donate/4327774960878267/
Or through my MoSpace page: https://movember.com/m/15369756?mc=1
Training builds bodies. Conversation saves lives. Let’s keep doing both.