Hi friends,

It’s been a minute since I sent out a newsletter! Life has been full lately, mostly thanks to our new puppy, Sammi (yes, he finally made it here!). Don’t worry, I’ll share photos!

Between puppy cuddles and logging miles and miles for a big race, time slipped away from me.

So, disclaimer: this newsletter is a bit more personal (though I suppose the last few have been too). This one’s a story about the race I didn’t finish and what it taught me.

And yes… a few puppy photos are sprinkled in too. 🐾

This past weekend, I attempted to run a 100-mile race 🤪

It wasn’t my first try. Back in 2021, I trained for one. I felt strong but was maybe a bit over zealous with hill training and took it a bit too far. If you are a client of mine, you have heard me preach about making sure training does not ramp up too much, too quickly, too soon.

But do I listen to my advice? (sometimes…)

It seemed as though I charged up and down every hill I saw, again and again, until I’d done too much elevation gain in too little time. That led to an IT band injury and, in hindsight, that injury is what ultimately pushed me to specialize in running as a physical therapist.

Fast-forward four years. My business, Run Freely Physical Therapy, is in its second year. And I’ve grown a lot since that last attempt, as a PT, runner, and as a person. So I decided to try again.

Training went well. It was a short block, but I felt confident. Physically, I had minimal doubts. I knew my body could do it. But where I fell short was everything else: the logistics, the mental and emotional piece, and, honestly, my ego. (I feel like this isn’t the first time I have mentioned my ego in a newsletter 🙄).

The Part I Overlooked

I got so focused on my physical readiness that I forgot to prepare mentally and emotionally.

I didn’t organize my crew until the last minute, didn’t line up pacers until race week, and never really talked with the people supporting me about what to do if things went wrong or how to help me keep going when I wanted to quit.

That’s on me. Surprise, surprise, I am horrible at admitting I need help and then asking for it.

Around mile 22, something in me started to shift. I just didn’t want to be out there anymore. Between miles 22 and 32, all I could think about was being home with my husband, my dogs, and the comfort of familiarity.

Running in the dark played a big part in that. This race has a unique start time of 2:00 pm, which means you are running in the dark early on in the race.

A Fear I Didn’t Expect

I’ve always had a deep fear of wildlife (bears and cougars), stemming from something that happened over a decade ago in Joshua Tree. I went out for a run near our Airbnb and ended up witnessing my dog being attacked by a coyote. He survived that moment but didn’t make it long after.

Ever since then, running alone on trails and in the dark brings that memory back, that feeling of being small and unsafe. The fear of the unknown, of the power of Mother Nature. And on race night, it caught up with me.

As I was running on the trail, I noticed there were intermittent signs sharing the history of the trail. Eventually, I passed one highlighting the wildlife. That kicked my fear up a notch and got my stomach turning from gels and nerves. I was scared and spiraling. I should’ve stopped, waited for someone to run with, and regrouped. But instead, I kept pushing and trying to run faster to get to the next crew access point.

When Ego Leads the Way

Then there was my ego. I had made a pacing chart, projected times I shared with others. When I fell behind early, I started pushing to catch up so I wouldn’t disappoint anyone.

But in doing that, I disappointed the one person I really needed to take care of, myself.

By the time I saw my sister at mile 32, I was exhausted and my nerves were shot. Instead of pausing, eating, and regrouping, I made the decision to stop altogether. I chose comfort over continuing. I chose the urgency of feeling safe over having patience and curiosity of what was to come

What I Learned

And yet… I learned so much.

I was reminded that physical strength is only one small piece of the puzzle. That preparing for something as big as a 100-mile race, or anything that tests you deeply, requires tending to your mental, emotional, and logistical foundations just as much as your physical one.

I also learned, again, how hard it is to ask for help but also how it is soo important to be able to ask others for what you need. How easily the ego can sabotage your mind and stop you from thinking clearly. How fear can live quietly inside us until it decides to speak up loudly. You need to meet that fear with a bit of patience, curiosity, and have some tools up your sleeve to help you feel a bit more safe.

Am I disappointed? Absolutely. I am sad, mad, and even a bit embarrassed.

But within all of those emotions, I’m also grateful because I learned lessons I’ll carry with me, both personally and in how I guide my patients and clients.

I am also grateful for my body and health; to have completed the training; to have conquered 32 miles feeling physically strong and capable; to not be wrecked after the race; and to still have the desire to run.

This was a reminder for me and one to share with all of you:
​Strength isn’t just built in the body, but in how we prepare our minds to keep going when things get hard.

Takeaway

Whether you’re training for your first 5K, your tenth ultra, or just navigating life right now, remember this:

• Don’t forget your mental and emotional preparation.
• Don’t be afraid to ask for help.
• Never underestimate the lessons that come from simply showing up.

I don’t know what’s next. I want it to be another race in the next few weeks but I am not sure if there is one out there that will work logistically. But I do know this: I’ll keep showing up, one mile at a time, and next time, a bit wiser.

~ Adria
Run Freely Physical Therapy & Wellness