The allure of ultramarathon running has captivated me for years—the adventure, the challenge, the romance of pushing past limits. I’ve always loved running. It gives me mental peace, confidence, and strength in life. But for a long time, I wasn’t sure I could ever complete an ultra.
That changed earlier this year when I signed up for the Tahoe Trail Run 50K at Northstar Resort in Tahoe. It wasn’t just the distance that made this a huge leap—it was the elevation. Racing at 6,000 feet with major elevation gain was far beyond anything I’d attempted before.
Meeting My Coach: The Turning Point
In April, I met Bree through her brother Pete. I had never worked with a running coach before, but after one phone call, I knew I needed her guidance. Bree didn’t just bring training plans—she brought passion, knowledge, and the kind of encouragement I didn’t realize I was missing.
From day one, every run had intention. Gone were the days of aimless jogs. Bree taught me structure: how to build endurance, how to train in Zone 2, how to climb, how to fuel. I felt myself improving—fast. For years, I’d been stuck as a runner, never really progressing. But this time, I was building something real. Each week, we’d check in and dive into the science of running—thresholds, hydration, race strategy. It gave me confidence.
By race week, I wasn’t just wondering if I could survive. I believed I could thrive.
Race Day: Starting Strong
Race morning arrived with blue skies over Tahoe. The energy was electric as the countdown began. 15 seconds… 8 seconds… holy crap… 5, 4, 3, 2, 1—GO.
We were instantly climbing. I stayed calm, controlled, letting others walk while I kept a steady pace. I felt good. My body was responding. Mile 10 came quickly, and I hit the first aid station perfectly timed with my nutrition and hydration. I was in the zone.
By mile 14, I was climbing again—pushing harder and feeling strong. This was the race I’d trained for. I was right where I wanted to be.
The Wrong Turn: Everything Changes
And then, around mile 19, it all unraveled.
There was an unmarked turn. I made a judgment call—but it was wrong. I committed, only realizing my mistake once I was far off course and down a steep descent. Panic hit. Frustration followed. I felt like I had failed—failed myself, my training, my coach, my loved ones.
I bushwhacked through the forest, desperately trying to find my way back. I called my girlfriend. Then I called Bree. I needed help, encouragement—anything. She asked how far I was off course. “About a mile and a half,” I told her. She reminded me that this happens in trail running. She told me not to give up.
Right then, I saw a runner. I found the trail again. I told Bree I had to go—I was back in it.
Finishing the Fight
At the next aid station, I saw my people. They filled me up—fuel, ice, water—but more importantly, love. I took that energy and kept going.
But everything had changed. I was battling not just the terrain, but my own mental spiral. My quads were cramping. The hills that once felt strong were now a struggle. I repeated one of Scott Jurek’s mantras: “I signed up for this.” My spirit hadn’t quit, even if my legs wanted to.
This wasn’t the race I expected—but that’s why I signed up for an ultra in the first place: to face the unknown and come out stronger.
What I Learned
I still have questions. What if I hadn’t gotten lost? Did my body shut down once it thought the race was over? How many others missed that same turn?
But in the end, the biggest lesson was this: I didn’t give up.
I’m more proud of finishing—of choosing to keep going—than I would’ve been if I had hit some arbitrary time goal. I finished strong. I learned more about myself and where I can grow next. And that’s the magic of ultrarunning.
This was my first 50K—but it won’t be my last.
