Facts vs Truths: Why Truths Matter More (Usually)

Please don’t come at me for the title. I thought it sounded catchy. I am sure you can argue that facts matter more but stick with me on this one.

A few years ago, my boss randomly told me something that stuck with me. What’s funny is I don’t think he meant it to be life advice or maybe he was just trying out a new phrase to see if it resonated. Well, it did. It was something I really needed to hear.

“There are facts, and there are truths. Truths matter more.”

At the time I just nodded along saying okay while I daydream about what I was going to eat for lunch. But like most meaningful ideas, it did not fully land until life gave me something to attach it to. Recently, while running the Disney Half Marathon with my wife, that phrase came rushing back after the race.

Facts Are Easy to Measure. Truths Take Context.

Look, I love facts. They are clean and measurable. They live in spreadsheets, race results, numbers, and headlines. Facts tell you what happened, but they rarely explain why it mattered or how it felt while it was happening.

To me, truths are different. Truths require context, perspective, and usually some humility.

The fact is my time for this latest half marathon is slower than my last. The truth is I ran a better race. A fact might be someone else accepted an award. The truth is I did the work that earned it.

Both can exist at the same time, but only one tells the whole story. Context is mother fucking everything.

The Monterey Bay Half Marathon: A Win on Paper

In November, I wrote a post called Thirteen Miles of Random Thoughts after running the Monterey Bay Half Marathon. That race was about performance and progress. I trained consistently, stayed disciplined, and pushed myself further than I ever had before.

Factually speaking, it was a big ass win for me. I beat my previous half marathon time by about 20 minutes. The clock confirmed it. The results backed it up. By every running metric, it was a success.

That race mattered to me because it proved something. It showed that consistency adds up (I’m sure you are all thinking no shit) but when you finally experience the results it matters. It reminded me that progress does not always feel dramatic, but it adds up.

The Disney Half Marathon: A Different Kind of Win

Fast forward to this past weekend where my wife and I ran the Disney Half Marathon. This time, my wife and I ran the race together.

Here are the facts. My time was slower than the Monterey Half Marathon. I did not beat my personal record. We stopped for tons of photos and a bathroom break. We walked at moments because we wanted to and we were just enjoying the morning air.

If you only look at the numbers, this race looks like a step backward. 

The truth is that this race meant more. We stayed together and we finished together. We talked, soaked it in, and even got a dorky pic of us crossing the finish line together. This race was different because there will not be another DisneyLand Half Marathon for the foreseeable future. Most people are assuming 10ish years. We are going from running them every six months to now not knowing if and when there will be another. We just enjoyed our time together and took it all in.

That matters more than shaving a few minutes off a race.

When Slowing Down Is Actually Progress

If you factor in everything that mattered, I beat the Monterey Bay Half Marathon.

Not in minutes but in meaning.

The truth is that I would not trade that experience for a new record. Because this race was not about proving something to myself. It was about choosing presence, patience, and partnership over performance. Okay, look I do have to add that if we subtract all the pictures and bathroom break technically I would have beat my time but that is beside the point. 

Marriage changes how I define winning. Success becomes less about being first and more about staying on the same path and having a sense of understanding. Easier said than done.

A Leadership Moment That Made It Click

Two years ago, a project I created and led received a major award. I am proud of it and it still defines my career. The ceremony was fancy as fuck. Generally I try to avoid these things but my wife likes having a reason to wear a dress and heels. That gives me a reason to go. It was the kind of awards ceremony that executives, elected officials, and community leaders all attend. Factually speaking, the CEO of my organization went up to accept the award on behalf of the organization. That is normal. That is how these moments work.

But as he was finishing his thank you speech, he stopped. He paused and said, “Although I am accepting this award it really belongs to someone else.”

Then he asked me to stand.

Being Seen for the Truth

He made it clear to everyone in the room that this project was my idea and work. It was my leadership. My vision. He gave me full one hundred mother fucking percent credit.

It meant a lot to me. For one brief moment in time, I had three members of the House of Representatives, a Senator, colleagues from all throughout California, and my wife standing and applauding for my dumbass. It is still one of the proudest moments of my life.

The award mattered. But being seen mattered more. Yes, the fact is the award has my organization's name on it, but the truth is the award is mine.

That moment shaped how I think about leadership. Real leaders do not recognize good work. They recognize people. Later that night he confessed that he was hoping that he embarrassed the shit out of me. 

Why This Matters Beyond Running and Work

We live in a world obsessed with measurable outcomes. Time, money, titles, follower counts, race results. Those things are not meaningless in any way, but they are incomplete.

Facts tell you what happened. Truths tell you why it mattered and how it felt to live through it. If you only chase facts, you will always feel behind. There will always be someone faster, richer, or more accomplished. Truths offer a different scorecard. One that includes being happy, connection, and showing up for the people who matter most.

I see this play out all the time in parenting, too. The fact might be that you missed bedtime because work ran late or life got messy. The truth might be that your kid still remembers the random Tuesday you stayed up late playing Super Mario with them or listening to them ramble about something that made absolutely no sense. The fact might be you did not make every school event. The truth might be that when you were there, you were fully there and not just waiting to leave.

The same thing happens with health and fitness outside of race day. The fact might be that the scale did not move this week. The truth might be that you slept better, ran farther without stopping, or did not quit when you normally would have. The fact might be that your routine is not perfect. The truth might be that you are still showing up more often than you used to and you can feel progress. 

Choosing Truths Going Forward

I still care about performance. I still train. I still set goals and push myself. Facts do matter.

But I am learning not to let them tell my entire story.

Sometimes the truth is that slowing down was the win. Sometimes the truth is that sharing the moment mattered more than owning it. And sometimes, the truth is that you succeeded, even if the numbers never say it.

Thanks for Reading (and for Sharing)

If you made it this far, thank you for reading. More importantly, thank you for sharing this if it resonated.