Why I Run as Lawyer

Why I Run

People sometimes ask how I find time to run. I manage a law practice, appear in tribunals and courts, and have a family to run. I don’t find the time — I make it, because without running, I’d be a different kind of lawyer.

I run about 75 kilometres a week, usually across nine sessions. Most are before the office opens or after work. Some are on the hills, run path or parks around Auckland, where the terrain doesn’t let you switch off.

Trial work is more physical than people realise. A full day at the Immigration and Protection Tribunal or the Employment Relations Authority means being on your feet, listening carefully, responding in real time, managing your client’s anxiety, and thinking three steps ahead of the question you’re about to ask. By late afternoon, energy and focus start to matter as much as legal knowledge. I’ve been in hearings where the quality of submissions dropped noticeably as the day wore on. I’d rather not be on that end of it.

What I value most about running isn’t the fitness, though. It’s what happens to my thinking when I’m out on the road. I’ve left for a run, stuck on how to frame a submission or approach a cross-examination, and come back with a workable answer. Something about the rhythm of it, the absence of screens and interruptions, lets things settle into place. A surprising amount of my case preparation happens at kilometre eight, not at my desk.

Running has also shaped how I think about preparation generally. You don’t show up to a marathon without doing the work — you build up over weeks, respect the distance, and trust the process. Hearings are no different. You prepare methodically, anticipate what’s coming, and don’t walk in hoping it’ll come together on the day.

There’s a mental resilience aspect too. At some point in the long run, your body tells you to stop. You learn to keep going — not recklessly, but deliberately. Litigation has its own version of that: a case takes a bad turn, an argument doesn’t land, a decision goes against you. The habit of pushing through discomfort on the road carries into how I handle setbacks in a hearing.

I didn’t start running to become a better lawyer. I needed an outlet, something that had nothing to do with case files or court deadlines. But over time, the two have become difficult to separate.

If you can’t find me in the office, I’m probably out on the trails somewhere.