Finding my limits in a world that tells us there are none...

In a world that constantly tells us that there are no limits to what we can accomplish and that with the right mindset and training we can accomplish anything I wanted to provide another perspective...Perhaps it is okay to find your limit and here is the story of how I did.

A short back story… I got into endurance sports back in 2002 when I ran my first marathon. To say I was hooked was an understatement. Very shortly after in 2004 I signed up for my first Ironman Triathlon and completed 10 in the span of 6 years. In 2010 I ran my first ultra-marathon which lead to me running the Leadville trail 100 in 2012 (my first 100) then 8 more races of 100 miles or longer along with several marathons, 50ks, 50 milers, and 100ks. I would like to stress that I am not physically gifted, not even remotely close to being so. In fact I have a very flawed body, the list of reasons that I should not have been able to accomplish these feats is too long to explain in this short write up. What I can say is that learning how to fix my own body has actually fueled a career as a personal trainer specializing in injury prevention and most importantly keeping my clients doing the things they love. Staying healthy and injury free is one of my core values an athlete and coach, it also turned into a personal limitation in my endurance journey. Fast forward to 2016, the year I started competing in winter ultras. I had a lot to learn and it turned out that running a few 100s was not enough experience to be successful at my first 80 mile sled pulling race, the Tuscobia winter ultra. I got my ass handed to me in a big way that year but eventually I figured it out and went on to successfully complete two Tuscobia 80 milers on foot. My gut told me to stop there, my curiosity and ego told me to keep going.

I showed up to Arrowhead 135 in 2019, the year of the polar vortex in which temps dipped to nearly -50F on the trail. I stopped at the first check point (mile 36) knowing that my skill level was not up to the task. I swore I would make it back someday to complete the race. What I did not know was that my motivation to complete long races was shifting greatly. I started to feel the shift in 2017. I was competing in a 100 mile race and at mile 50 my knee began to hurt. I had no desire to complete the race on a sore knee. The old me would have pushed through. In 2018 I successfully completed two 100 mile races but my excitement for them was way less than in the past. In 2019 I had a full on emotional breakdown at the 50k mark of a 100 miler. I finished that race but it was a fight. The trend was simply this, I was fine up to about 10 hours or 50 miles, and then the race was simply not fun for me anymore. I saw no need to push myself further. I knew the physical toll that going further would take and I was sick and tired of pushing my body to that point. Fast forward to 2021 in which I got into the Arrowhead 135. The race I swore that I would come back to and finish. I trained hard, harder than I had for any other race. I received more massages in 8 weeks than I had in 6 months. I stretched, I strength trained, I even hired a sports psychologist to help me with some mental tactics to get through the event. I knew what the problem was…I simply was not motivated by the same things that I was when I started my endurance journey back in 2002. I also had learned a lot about my body, and the toll that big miles had on it. Not to mention that in 20 years I had worked with countless client’s whose ability to run had been taken away from them for one reason or another. In other words…I knew too much. In order to finish Arrowhead on foot you needed one of two things, to be a gifted athlete, or to be willing to put it all on the line. The truth was that I was neither. I showed up in International Falls, MN with all of the right winter gear, the right training, and the right nutrition. What I did not have was the desire to finish this race no matter what it took. I liked my body too much. I loved the fact that I could get up every morning mostly pain free and go for a run. I enjoyed this simple practice so much that the thought of losing it even for a few weeks scared the shit out of me. I laid awake for 2 nights before the event not because of excitement but because of dread, a feeling that I had never felt before a race in the past. The morning of the race I almost did not start but I knew that there was a small chance I could find the motivation to push my body to it’s absolute limit while out on the trail. I had done it before, there was always a small chance I could do it again. As the sun rose I knew my truth. I was not going to be a greedy athlete anymore. I knew my own personal sweet spot. I knew what my body really wanted to do. My body wanted to run. My body was tired of being pushed to the point of severe discomfort. My body did not want to pull a sled for 50+ hours while hiking up and down hills in the snow. All the while exaggerating the problems that only I knew how to fix with the proper training, and recovery. The problems that took me 15+ years to figure out how to fix. I walked for 10.5 hours feeling 50% relieved that I discovered my limit but also equally sad because my journey down this epic endurance path would be over.

As I walked into Gateway I announced to the time keeper my drop. “Are you sure” he asked me (three times). “I have been thinking about this for 10 hours I said”, he laughed. The truth is that I had been thinking about this for several years. It just took me a start and DNF at the biggest race of my life to be okay with my truth. So now I resume being just a runner. I get up most mornings and go for a run because I can and I love it. I will sign up for the occasional marathon, 50 miler, or shorter winter ultra until those races are no longer fun. Pushing myself is part of who I am and I can’t see giving that up soon. Luckily, there are a lot of other ways to challenge our bodies and minds then always continuing to sign-up for longer and harder races. Arrowhead 135 will always hold a special place in my heart. The race, community, and athletes are some of the best I have known and that is perhaps the saddest part of letting go of this goal. I will forever be grateful for the experience to participate in the Arrowhead 135 TWICE! Altough I cannot say I am a fan of winter I no longer hate it, and that is something.