Ultra Marathon Update: A DNF (Did Not Finish) + A DNS (Did Not Start)

I don't think I could smile any wider after finishing, with a massive assist from my pal Katie, my third 20-miler in as many weeks.


So I probably pissed off some unicorn—or more likely, the PodiaGoddess by trash talking about my ultra-long water ski feet—because I will not be starting the Superior 50K Ultra Marathon on May 21.

My right foot, the one that has had a neuroma removed (late 90's) and a failed bunion surgery (2003) and a broken-but-not-straightened-again fourth toe (2004) and a plantar plate tear (2015), is being a total bully.

Backstory: During the bulk of my training, I did three, 40+ mile weeks (three!) feeling ridiculously strong and good. On my last run with Katie, I felt a just a bit of soreness in the middle to outside of my foot. Nothing major, but enough for me to take notice and turn up the foam rolling self-care while adding in icing and Adviling. I took a week easy, went to see the PT, and all was relatively good.

Coach MK and I moved around my schedule accordingly. We settled on my last long run for April 25: Ideally, I'd go 4 hours, 30 minutes. I was going to do a 25K in Colorado Springs, keep going after the finish to complete the time, then we'd head into a gradual taper.

Because the race started at 8:30—and because the Colorado sun was actually shining—I arrived at the race early to get some solo trail time (scarce when you have a blizzard every other weekend) and to focus on how my foot felt. I ran for an hour, and felt my sore spot slightly on the uphills, but nothing dramatic at all. Good to go.

The race started, and within .5 mile, I stepped on a rock—likely no bigger than a Hershey's Kiss—so perfectly that it was like a dagger driving straight into my very sensitive spot. I swear, my teeth vibrated with pain. I was sure I had broken my foot.

No, I just had unintentional amazing aim into the sorest part of my body's Achilles heel.

I took some deep breaths, let a flock of people pass me, and eventually, over the next few minutes, it quieted down enough for me to think I was going to live.

Until about mile 5, when I swear, that PodiaGoddess moved the exact same (non-noticeable) rock 4.5 miles so I would step on it exactly the same way again. If I didn't break it before, I definitely shattered it this time. I pulled over to the side of the trail to sit down—the first time I've ever done that in a race— took off my shoe (also, a first), and rubbed it (yep, never done that before).

Losing hydration through my tears, I slowly put on my shoe, started walking, and wondered how I would get back to my car. The 25K was two different loops that met at the start/finish line. After a little while, I got it together enough to shufflerun, and I started calculating how long I had run and how much longer I had to go to get to 4:30.

Rationally, I knew I shouldn't keep going, but let's be honest: running and rational aren't exactly great bedfellows. I'd never pulled out of a race before. I am strong, I am badass, I don't drop out of races. #Stupidrunnersbrain

Then I reminded myself that I wasn't even racing. I was training. And if I kept going I would, in fact, be throwing away my chances at the race I actually wanted to race: Superior 50K. I stopped again, pulled over and texted Coach MK for accountability. If I told her I was dropping out, I would drop out.

So when everybody turned right to start the second loop, I went straight. "My foot really hurts," I mumbled to the one volunteer who tried to herd me in the right direction, "Training for another race, and I don't want to compromise it."

l drove home, dove my foot into a pail of ice and was as hopeful as I could be. But after two PT appointments and crazy ice pail baths twice a day and no running and pain that is still very loud at times, I admit I cannot take on 31 miles and 4,000 feet of climbing in Superior in about two weeks.

Refreshing and refreshments. A good combo.
Refreshing and refreshments. A good combo.


Am I bummed? Completely. Do Adele songs make me cathartically cry these days? Yes. Do I think I can go to the race and cheer on my #BAMNR teammates and not come home feeling ridiculously sad? At the risk of sounding selfish, probably not.

Do I still feel like a success? Absolutely. Because heart rate-based training is all about doing things differently, and I'm overachieving in that respect. I dropped out of a race. I decided not to start the race I've dreamed about doing for over a year. And even with those two dark clouds hovering, I am doing my best to see my nuun bottle half full, not half empty.

To that end, made a short list of what I've accomplished over the past six months on heart rate training:
—I've smoothly transitioned from running three days a week, max, to five days a week, no prob.
—I finished 3 (three!) 20-ish mile runs. My longest run before the 2007 Nike Women's was 16, and my longest run before Ironman CDA was 18.
—I've done more 800's and hill repeats than I can count.
—I covered nearly 30 miles helping Katie finish Rocky Raccoon 100.
—I've built enough glute strength on the BOSU that I could sign my checks "badass mother runner" without a hint of irony. (That is, if I ever wrote checks anymore.)
—I've become a regular foam roller. (By "regular" I mean three times a week.)
—I've watched the whole Making a Murderer series and listening to 2 books on Audible while running. Never could do that before.
—Most of all, I'm fired up about running. I am DNS'ing Superior because I don't want to fall back into my old pattern of finishing a really big race, and then be so hurt or fatigued that I don't want to do another big event for three years.

I want to cross a finish line feeling my absolute best in 2016. Whether that's a 5K or a ultra, I'm not sure yet. But you'll be the first to know.

I'm hoping to be back running by the end of May; we're still trying to figure out why PodiaGoddess cast her lightning rods my way and how we're going to mellow her out.

IMG_8658 (1)
Stats after an hour on the bike and 15 minutes strength/BOSU training. #nailedit


Until then, I've got the pool, I've got a bike, I've got still got to mind my beats per minute, and I've got plenty
miles to go.

Curious minds want to know: Have you ever dropped out of a race?
What led you to that decision? 


55 responses to “Ultra Marathon Update: A DNF (Did Not Finish) + A DNS (Did Not Start)

  1. I’m finally getting around to reading this and so bummed for you, Dimity. I hope that now, about a month out from this post, things are looking up. Things were going so well for you that I’m sure it came as a huge disappointment 🙁

  2. Did. Not. Finish. They’re an ultrarunner’s three least-favorite words. Unfortunately, the numbers don’t lie. Examine the finishing rates of the 127 100-mile races listed on

  3. Did. Not. Finish. They’re an ultrarunner’s three least-favorite words. Unfortunately, the numbers don’t lie. Examine the finishing rates of the 127 100-mile races listed on

  4. I have been thinking about this post for a few days, but haven’t had a chance to respond. You are inspiring in your acceptance of the situation and I love the list of accomplishments you compiled! It really is about the journey, not just the destination. Don’t get me wrong – missing out on the destination still sucks the big one, but you seem to have the bigger picture in mind. Your talk about HRT helped inspire me to embrace HRT and it’s going well so far. Here’s to the journey!

  5. Oh damn…this is such terrible news. I can’t even tell you how inspiring you and Sarah have been to me…you especially because I end up with these types of awful and depressing running injuries that seem to show up out of nowhere or are the result of some extremely unfair force of nature (like my dog yanking on his leash and me slamming my leg down, sparking some kind of knee issue). The fact that you’re keeping your head up and keeping in mind all the other activities you’re still able to do is so inspiring. I know you’re probably a little secretly pissed at every runner right now, or at least I’d be…I wouldn’t be mad at them but mad that they’re all injury free and it’s just not fair. But like you said…you’re still able to swim and bike and be awesome…but it still sucks.

  6. My heart breaks for you, I’m so sorry to read this update.

    I had to pull out of a 50 miler three weeks before the event a few years ago. I was depressed! I had a terrible fall about 6 weeks before race day (four limps with bloody scrapes and a sore/swollen left leg).

    I was pushing through (just one more run then taped time) when my husband told me he wouldn’t drive me to the event if my leg was numb. I was so focused and unwilling to hear that I was injured. A doctor confirmed I fractured my hip and damaged tissue. Yikes!

    After a few months of PT and proper healing I was running again.

    As others have said, thank you for being vulnerable with us. It’s an amazing gift.

    Hugs, Mari

  7. Hugs! I’m facing a possible DNS at my upcoming marathon due to peroneal tendonitis that started right at the beginning of taper, so I know the feeling. I chose to DNS a fun 10K I had been looking forward to in an attempt to salvage the marathon. We’ll see! You made the right decision and are absolutely right to feel like a success. Congrats on rocking your training!

  8. Dimity,
    Great timing on this post (at least for me)! I just DNF a 100 miler – dropping down to 50 miles. Why? Because my hands swelled (edemia) (which they do usually, but this was extreme) and it was 40 COLD WET degrees on a soupy sloppy course.
    That didn’t diminish the fact I worked 4 months to get ‘er done. (sigh) This is my second attempt at 100 miles BOTH times D-N-F.
    I’m giving myself one more shot this fall at 100 miles. If I fail I will accept that 50 miles and shorter work for me and anything farther doesn’t.
    QUESTION: Is there anyway I can register for the HEART-RATE Program (thru AMR) and get an adapted program for 100 miles? When I start back training I’m going to use the 140 BPM max, especially during my long runs but I would like something more complete. THANK YOU!

  9. Dropped out of a regional Xterra after the horrendous mtn. bike leg and didn’t want to be DFL on the run. But I never told many people and am good with it to this day. Recently hubby and I DNS a mtn. bike ride/race of 30 miles due to rain/cold as we knew we would be out there for over four hours. We rode a bit, re-booked the hotel room and are going back to ride the course in another month by ourselves. Again….we are good with it. No one needs to know (nor cares!) but us!

  10. There is nothing more I love than your and Sarah’s honesty and this blog speaks that loudly. I love that you are human like the rest of us. Life isn’t perfect, but you got back out there, despite your nagging injuries, and found a way to succeed. This blog is not about failure, it is about rising despite road blocks, and you do that over and over. Way to go Dimity! Keep on showing us how it’s done!

  11. Oh, I am sooooo sorry!!! You are such an amazingly strong woman, and I LOVE that you have the heart to share this as a learning experience for the rest of us. The victory isn’t always in the finish, it’s in the journey of doing what it takes to be the runner you want to be in the ‘long run’ (ugh, puns not intentional!). LOVE that you are keeping the joy of the pursuit and not letting this throw you – feel free to sob along with Adele and eat whatever ice cream it takes to get through the initial disappointment, just know that you are a hero for doing the WISE thing.

  12. I’m so sorry, I know making the call is tough. Though I’ve never had to drop from a race, just last fall I decided to DNS the half I’d been training for all summer with the help of an AMR challenge. As hard as it was, it was the right call.. And once again it was the BAMRs who helped me feel supported. So, yea, it’s ok to be upset, to hurt, to cry – BAMR sisters are right here to support you through this and on to the next adventure! Whatever it is, you are an inspiration and a total badass!

  13. Dimity, I’m so sorry you won’t have the chance to do your Ultra this May. You may not cross the starting line but you’ve got so many people so excited and curious about changing up how we train. You’ve been inspirational to so many of us. Yes, I had a DNF and I drive by that spot (about 100 yd short of finish line) and I cringe. I ran someone else’s race that day and I’ll never let that happen again. Be well.

  14. You didn’t finish your end goal but you accomplished so many other goals and inspired a lot of us. Rest that foot. You will be back stronger than ever soon!

  15. Sounds like you’re training by heart and not just heart rate. I’m sorry for your pain, but really impressed with your ability to assess and put it all in perspective.

  16. You are amazing and inspirational Dimity! I’m so sorry that you have to bail on your goal ultra, and admire you for your honesty, strength to know it’s best to pull out and your positivity about what you have accomplished. Best wishes for a speedy and full recovery and hope you’re lacing up those running shoes again soon!

  17. So impressed, Dimity – those great long runs, owning the tears and disappointment, enjoying the journey and continuing to enjoy the journey♡

  18. Dropped out of Training for Ironman Boulder 2014. I covered all of this in a blog journal, but the bottom line was that it wasn’t my time, and IMBoulder wasn’t going to be my race. I needed to spend time with my kid that summer instead of force myself in training.

  19. I’m so sorry. When I have to make hard running decisions I refer to it as making sure I”m on the correct side of the Bad ass/ Dumb ass line. Sounds like you stayed on the BA side and IMO it takes a lot of strength to pull out of a race bc its the right decision for your body. Small plug it looks like the HRT group will have a meetup in Philly you could come run either the half or the full there. It would be exciting even though you would have to wait at the finish for a while to see me finish.

  20. Dimity, You are such a strong, inspiring, competitive runner/biker/swimmer… I am so proud of you for listening to your body!! Your accomplishments have been giant this year. 🙂 I did have to drop out of Hood to Coast a few years back. I did the first leg and got horrific blood blisters on my right foot… I couldn’t even walk, so my team took over my legs and I became the cheerleader…. Hard to do…but didn’t want to make it worse….

  21. I’m so sorry, Dimity. I know this was a big milestone for you. Hopefully the bigger picture of why this happened will shine down on you soon.

  22. What a tough decision to give up your goal race, but I know something is big coming your way, given how you were sidelined. You are so inspiring going from 3 runs/week to infinity and beyond! BAMR! Be well, and look for the opportunity! Stay strong!

  23. I’ve got to say you are one tough and wise BAMR. I haven’t dropped out of a race, but I probably should have last year at the DC RocknRoll 1/2. My decision to keep going made my injuries worse, compounded them and extended my recovery time.
    Cheering for a return to running ASAP and may the foot gods smile upon you.

  24. I’m soo sorry!!! This sucks big time! I’ll eat some ice cream tonight in your honor. And be thankful for the miles I do get to run.

  25. First, so sorry! You are smart to put off doing the ultra, even though it is a wrenching decision. But that can be even more painful mentally than physically sometimes. Ok, misery loves company so let me give you some of that. For reference, I happened to be the person whose bike was 2 over from yours at Coeur d’Alene ’13…! Anyway, since then I have broken collarbones 3 times, had 4 surgeries (and one still to go), missed CDA ’14 due to these injuries (after mostly training for it), missed 2 half IMs along the way for same reasons, completed IMAZ ’15… A total roller coaster, all in less than 2 years. And I have also had a neuroma foot surgery right before all of that. So, I understand pain and heartbreak and missing races and really wanting races. I read your post and felt bummed for you. But like me, you will heal and get strong. I am on the 4th go-round of doing that now. Figure out what you can do, and do the shit out of it until you can run again. Best of luck.

  26. Oh Man, I’m SO SORRY to read that you have to scrap your plans for Superior. I was planning on living vicariously through you and your race report. But it’s not about me – it’s about you!
    You’re doing the smart thing and you’ve accomplished a lot already with all of the training.
    Take care and HEAL.

  27. Dimity, you are and always will be such an inspiration to us, the BAMR Tribe. It takes a lot of courage and wisdom to do what you did and we are so proud of you!!

  28. Ugh! SO not what I would have hoped for you!! But glad you made the smart long-term decision to skip the race. I have only considered quitting one race. It was a trail half with 4,000 feet of elevation. But at the point I decided to stop I realized I would still need to go at least a mile for anyone to rescue me. Might as well keep going at that point, right?

  29. Bummed for you Dimity. Add to your short list that you have inspired other mother runners to try heart rate-based training. I hope you get back at it by the end of the month and cross a finish line in 2016 smiling!

  30. Oh, Dim! So sorry the foot is giving you problems again. You are wise and brave for choosing the smart choice. It is so easy to try to ignore pains when we’ve worked so hard for something. I had a DNS for my first half after slicing my foot the week before the race. Whenever I hear of someone not racing it takes me back to that time. I was so disappointed and heartbroken and in pain. I love your ability to list the positives and go forward with positivity. You have a true gift at this, Dimity! Always cheering for you. xoxo

  31. Nooo! So bummed for you because I was so excited for you to run Superior! But you are right about your list of things you have accomplished and that is the spirit of a good runner- always grateful, always looking for a way to turn things into what you did right, did well, what you learned, turning things positive side up. I am glad you tried the heart rate training because there is more than one way to run and now Another Mother Runner has this perspective, too.
    I have not DNS’d or DNF’d yet. I’m in for Superior’s fall marathon and look at it as a possible DNF because it will be the toughest run I’ve attempted.
    I know it would be super hard to go to the race and not run but just being a part of that race and volunteering or crewing for your friends is a big, big thing. You could be such a big encouragement to those runners who are out there. Plus, Lutsen in the Spring is gorgeous.

  32. Dimity, so, so sorry. And so glad you’ve learned so much and have MK to see all this from a different perspective. Hoping you heal quickly!!

  33. I’m really sorry to read this, Dimity. I know how hard you’ve trained and how excited you’ve been about stepping up your running game thanks to the new HR approach. That being said, you’ve made a wise decision and one that will hopefully have you back out on the trails in a few weeks rather than taking you out for the remainder of the summer, if not longer. I admire the guts it took to stop running that 25k and decide to drop out of Superior, as I’m sure the easier decision would have been to just keep going. I DNSed two races last summer (for a loss of a few hundred dollars) and have never regretted my decision. I think you’ll feel the same. It just hurts right now–in more ways than one. Thinking of you.

  34. YOU ARE COACHED. YOU ARE LOVED. I AM WILDLY, TRULY, DEEPLY PROUD OF YOU. I am in tears reading this, I am *that* proud. You are so brave, such an incredible inspiration, and have such amazing perspective. You are, in fact, a BIGGER badass than you were yesterday. I know, I know it doesn’t seem possible but you totally are.

  35. I just love your “short” list of all you’ve accomplished over the last 6 months. Add to that list: courage to not race when injured! I wish I had done that back in 2012. I started a race I had no business running, raced it thinking I could still PR, and ended up injured, hobbling at the side of the road at mile 4.5 of 13.1. The “good” news is it caused me to finally take time off and deal with a 2 year old nagging Achilles injury. I learned my lesson.
    Hats off to you for doing something smart and hard! Heal well and there will be another ultra! Hugs to you!!

  36. Dimity, I am so sorry. I hope you heal quickly!

    I DNF’d the Houston Marathon this year. I woke at 4:00am on race day and puked my guts out and had even more empty out of my other end. I went back to bed for a few minutes, got up and said to myself, maybe I got it all out of me. It seemed like such a waste of money (race fees, plane ticket, hotel room, rental car etc) to then not actually do the race. There was water at the start which I knew I needed, but afraid if I drank anything, I would throw up again. Long story short, I started and it was an absolutely miserable experience. I quit after about 11.5 miles.

  37. I am so sorry to hear about your (possible) injury and the super-major-awful bummer about your 50K–but as others have said, your experience teaches the rest of us and gives us a great example to follow. We all talk about listening to our bodies, but when it comes down to it, it’s a royally hard thing to do and it can totally suck! We are all inspired by your honesty and your grace in this situation. Cry it out, yell and scream, have a beer and some chocolate ice cream…and know your tribe is with you!!

  38. Bummer, Dimity. Learn so much from you on being smart on listening to our bodies. I am sure you will put in lots of miles on Lyle.

  39. Aw, Dimity, I’m so sorry!!! You go ahead and cry all the tears. Eat some of the chocolate. There’s just no way around it that this sucks royally!!! We so appreciate learning from your experiences. From this we learn wisdom and prudence. I’m sure it won’t be long until we’re learning how to be victorious with grace and enthusiasm!

  40. My favorite line from this great post: running and rational don’t make great bedfellows. Isn’t that the truth? I trained my lifetime dream race, Big Sur, with very little running when 6 weeks out, PodiaGoddess struck me and flared my PF so badly I couldn’t walk, much less run. I was SO determined to run this. I dropped any semblance of a time goal. The first goal was to line up and the second goal was to cross the finish line. Fortunately, I was able to do both. And my PF is still just a whisper of what it was 2 months ago. I’m feeling very grateful. I’ve DNS’d one race in my whole life. And that was after a stress fracture. I know how hard it is. I feel you. But I know my limitations, and there will be no ultras for me. My feet just can’t take the miles anymore.

    Hang in there Dimity. <3

  41. Ah so bummed for you but really cheerEd by your pragmatic approach and positive spirit. I’m currently in the throes of a knee injury and off running with PT to see if I can get better without surgery (some kind of meniscus injury). So I’m dripping out of my goal half marathon race and it hurts but more importantly I want to be able to train for the fall half marathon so I think we should applaud our maturity and ability to see the long view. Wishing you a really speedy recovery!

  42. I dropped on a 50k last year and ended up with 29.5 miles in. Not a DNS but a DNF. My IT band was screaming and the actual course would have been 36 miles. I was using it as a training run and have absolutely no regrets to this day. The Director even said I could walk out and back if I wanted to get a medal…I just didn’t care about a medal. This year I ran it again as a training run and completed it as well as adding on for a 50 mile training run that day. You have become so strong and wise to your body that when you do run that 50k distance, you’ll slam it. There are plenty of races to kick all our butts.

  43. Dimity I am so, so sorry. That just plain sucks. Your post is lovely and full of optimism, but man my heart is hurting for you!

  44. Sooooo sorry, Dimity. I’ve been wondering after your last Strava update….boo. Keep focusing on your awesome list of positives and keep moving forward…on a bike….or the pool 🙂 Sending healing vibes!

  45. As always, Dimity, you are such an inspiration. It takes a strong (and smart) woman to know when to stop. It’s harder to stop/not start than anything else. I’m so sorry this happened especially after how well you’ve trained. But it’s not just the race as the goal but to keep on going strong in the long term. Thank you for sharing your journey with us.

  46. Oh Dimity!!!! I’m so sorry. (Kristen from the marathon training group here) yeah, I DNS this weekend at what was to be my first marathon. Shortly after my amazingly good second 20 miler, (in retrospect 2 plus some serious hill running the week before probably was above my limits) I felt a terrible sharp pain down the back of my thigh, plus shin/calf pain so bad I had to stop running. Waited three weeks, still couldn’t impact the right leg, which I need to drive my kids to school, so went grudgingly to the doc. He suspects femur/hip stress fracture so glad I went, and I bailed on the race. Because there will always be a time for that, unless of course you need to replace your hip bc you cracked it in half by running when you shouldn’t!! On the positive it turned out to be a super wet and cold day and my partners were better off with me there to drive them around in a warm dry car.

  47. I am so proud of you for making this decision–maybe that sounds presumptuous of me since I only know you from your amr podcasts and TLAM. But I know enough to know how you’ve struggled with your injuries. You made the right decisions at the right time. You did the mature, grown-up thing. You’ll live to fight (run?) another day. Yet it still sucks a whole lot, and I’m really sorry it didn’t work out this time. Stupid foot! Hope you can get back into things as planned.

  48. Dimity – I am so sorry to hear about your foot, but if you ask me it takes a true BAMR to admit it’s a better idea not to run. I dropped out of the Chicago Marathon last year and felt awful about it until I heard about a friend of the family who pushed herself through injury and ran a marathon only to hurt herself so badly that she had to give up running altogether. You’re the best running role model a tribe can ask for because in the words of Kenny Rogers you “know when to hold ’em, know when to fold ’em, know when to walk away and know when to run.” Such a wise woman. Wishes for a speedy, sane recovery heading your way.

  49. Had to give a little chuckle Dimity. Your feet must really be as “special” as you say that you have to use that industrial rectangular bucket instead of a regular bucket. lol. Speedy healing to you!!!

  50. Dimity, I’m so sorry. The disappointment (and pain) in your post is palpable. Strength comes in many forms, and you exude that. Not just because you have the courage to DNF/DNS but the way you live your life and share that with others. I’ve DNS’d and DNF’d, in running and in other areas of my life. These times provide learning and growth just as much as going the distance. I wish you a speedy recovery and another fabulous race in the not-too-distant future.

  51. I have both had a DNS and dine races when I knew better. The DNS always ends up the better choice. It is hard, hard, hard. I’m bummed for you, but I’m so proud of you. There will be other races, but you only have one foot!! (Okay, you have TWO feet, but you get the idea.) Sending you lots of BAMR love and hope the foot feels MUCH better soon!!

  52. So sorry to hear this, Dimity. I know you must be so bummed out. Last year, I had to pull out of the St. Michael’s Half-Marathon when the pain from my calcaneal stress fracture the year before reared its ugly head. Every time I started up training, I’d make it no more than 3 miles before I’d get pain. Last October, I discover a rehab plan that endorsed super-slow running (I’m a huge fan of MK’s plans) and am now set to run the St. Michael’s in two weeks! It’s so hard to put all this work into any endeavor and not be able to complete it successfully. Let yourself mourn a little bit, then start again. (Also, run in the pool. I’m not sure it helped my fitness, but I felt so ridiculous that I often laughed out loud.)

  53. I am so unbelievably proud of you for stepping aside. It is sooooo tremendously difficult to do, and especially keep a relatively upbeat attitude like you are. Mad props, girl. Mad.

    I have more or less pulled out of a race for two weekends from now – our spring girls’ weekend half marathon trip. I have been sidelined with ITB since my ultra last September. two PTs, an orthopedists, two chiropractors, and a masseuse later, I finally think I am on the right track…but I am only up to a long run of 7 miles. Definitely don’t want another setback to getting to my ultra again this September, so I want to play it safe. But it has been a very tough decision to make, and to ultimately be ok with an not whine and stomp my feet like a toddler ever time I think about it. I feel your pain.

  54. I’ve dropped out of two races. The first, a 50K, was because I was undertrained and decided at mile 21 that I just didn’t feel like continuing. The second, a triathlon just three days ago, was because my back locked up so badly after the bike that I felt light-headed and couldn’t start the run. In the 50K, I just gave up and I was okay with the decision. In the triathlon, I was incredibly disappointed because I felt so strong and my body failed me that day for whatever reason. The takeaway for me from both races is that nothing is ever perfect and that its okay for things to be different than we hoped or planned. The most important thing is to learn and move on.

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