After the Finish Line: Purpose, Recovery, and What Brands Can Learn

Mexico City Marathon 2025

After the Mexico City Marathon, two things hit me. First, my legs reminded me that 42 kilometers is not a casual Sunday jog. Second, my mind whispered something more dangerous: now what? For eight months, my life revolved around training — early mornings, strict routines, sacrifices that made sense because there was a finish line waiting. And then I crossed it. Purpose evaporated.

The 6 a.m. runs suddenly felt pointless. Intervals became just… intervals. The drive was gone. And the so-called “recovery period”? That was the hardest part. Resting felt unnatural, almost wrong. Anxiety crept in like an unwanted training partner. I hated sitting still so much that I impulsively signed up for a 30k trail race, just to have something to chase. But even with that distraction, I couldn’t shake the feeling that my purpose had slipped through my fingers.

It reminded me of brands when they lose their sense of purpose. They scramble. A misstep in their narrative, a botched campaign, a shift in culture — suddenly, they’re out of rhythm. And instead of taking the time to recover, they panic. They launch something new too quickly, drop discounts, chase trends, anything to feel alive again. Just like me reaching for another race because silence felt unbearable.

Old Jaguar logo vs. the new branding on the right

So I did what I always do when I need to reset: I went to Chipinque, my sacred place. No watch, no splits, no plan. Just me, the mountains, and enough silence to hear my own thoughts. That’s where it hit me: purpose isn’t an event, it’s a reason for being. Goals come and go — marathons, campaigns, product launches. But purpose is the north star that makes the small, boring, daily things matter. And that’s exactly what the best brands understand.

A strong brand doesn’t just sell sneakers, coffee, or software. It operates from a deeper why. Purpose shows up everywhere: in the campaigns, in the packaging, in how customer service responds when things go wrong. It’s the glue that makes everything coherent, even when there’s no “big launch” happening.

My marathon was a goal, but not a sustainable purpose. Just like brands that live launch to launch, I crashed when the spotlight faded. What I needed wasn’t another race to sign up for — it was a broader purpose that could give meaning to every training run, not just the finish line.

That’s the real marketing lesson here. Purpose isn’t about writing a poetic manifesto or slapping a mission statement on your website. It’s about creating coherence. For a brand, that means consistency across every touchpoint. For me, it meant redefining running not as “chasing marathons,” but as “a way to think, to breathe, to stay grounded.” Suddenly, even a lazy jog around the block felt meaningful again.

And it works both ways. The discipline I built in training started showing up in my work. The patience of an 18-week plan helped me handle long projects. Purpose aligned the pieces. That’s what brands with real purpose do too: they make you feel part of something bigger than the product.

If you’re building a brand, ask yourself: would your purpose survive if you stopped running ads tomorrow? If you’re building a life, ask: would your purpose survive if you crossed the finish line today? If the answer is no, it’s time to rethink.

I left Chipinque with a new perspective: I don’t need another marathon right now. What I need is a purpose strong enough to make waking up at 5 a.m. feel worth it, even without a bib number waiting. Because whether you’re a brand or a person, the finish line is just a moment. Purpose is the thing that carries you long after.