Born to Survive, Born Again to Thrive
Born two months premature, I’ve lived my life on constant survival instinct. That instinct has shaped the way I approach everything—races included. Survival isn't just about staying alive—it’s about seeing how far I can push myself and how much I can discover about the limits of my mind and body.
My good friend Michael kept telling me about the Stone Mill 50 Mile Run, organized by MCRRC in Montgomery Village, Maryland, USA. Held each November, the race is known for cold temperatures, rolling hills, and beautiful trails winding through the Stone Mill ruins. While my race season was over, I was already in a high-volume training phase, preparing for the challenges awaiting me in 2018.
With over 40 podiums under my belt and fresh off 2nd place at the Spine Race (268 miles), 3rd place at the Quebec Mega Trail 50k, and 738 kilometers completed at the Infinitus 888k that year, I was hungrily building toward my third and final attempt at the 888k—and I wanted to win.
So I set my mind on treating Stone Mill 50 as a long training run. But being an ultra runner, 50 miles is considered a short and fast distance, and anyone who knows me can tell you that going half-speed isn’t an option.
The Race Begins: A Battle Against the Cold
On the cold, dark morning of the race, I took off fast and hard, mainly to escape the below-freezing temperatures. The chill froze the mouthpiece of my hydration pack, leaving me without water for the first two hours. All I could do was chase the sun’s warmth and embrace the ride as if there were no tomorrow.
Flying through the aid stations, I learned that I was leading the women’s race. As I reached the halfway point in under 3 hours and 45 minutes, that’s when it hit me: How in the world am I going to hold this pace for another 25 miles?
Victory Is About Effort, Not Ranking
Marking this midway milestone, I peeled off a layer, relieved to finally feel some warmth returning. But just as I refueled, a strong female runner blew past me. She seriously looked like she knew what she was doing—probably smarter pacing than me.
One of the volunteers shouted, “You better stop fooling around and go catch her!”
“Yes, sir! On my way!” I yelled back, more for the fun of it at first. But it actually triggered a shift, turning anxiety into eagerness.
I charged onto the next grueling flat section along the C&O Canal—a painful but beautiful stretch. I couldn’t see her anywhere on the horizon, but it didn’t matter. The real race was with myself. She was just a reminder—a nudge—that I could push harder.
Your Strongest Competition Is Yourself
The Stone Mill 50 course is deceptive. The first half feels like a gift—a downhill cruise through rolling hills and scenic trails leading to the historic ruins. But the second half is sneaky, turning into an uphill grind that tests your willpower just as your legs start to give out.
I threw myself into the second half at a suicidal pace, accompanied by a young runner eager to keep up. But as the miles wore on, stopping at aid stations felt like a luxury I couldn’t afford anymore.
At mile 40, I reached another aid station, exhausted but determined.
“Do you happen to have a spare pair of fresh legs?” I joked. No luck there.
“Do you want to know where the first-place woman is?” they asked.
“Yes...”
“She just left.”
Endurance Is About Living Moment by Moment
“Sailor! We must go!” I shouted, half-crazed but determined to push forward. I reminded myself: “It ain’t over ‘til it’s over.” I threw some metaphorical charcoal into the furnace, leaving my running mate behind as the pain cranked even higher.
With every step, the pain grew sharper, but so did my focus. I blocked out everything except the present moment. Just keep digging.
And then, suddenly, there she was—six miles from the finish.
She looked fresh, while I felt shattered. But the only way out was through. “The faster you go, the sooner it’s over,” I told myself. With that, I decided to pass her—with fear but without hesitation, I went all in. My mind screamed: Run for your life. You can’t afford to look back.
The sparkle of excitement at being back in the lead was quickly overridden by the red lights flashing on my dashboard. Time seemed to slow down: seconds hurt like minutes, and minutes like hours.
I kept glancing over my shoulder, expecting her to jump back on my heels at any moment. I ran as if chased by ghosts.
The forever-ongoing breakout finally brought me to the final mile—a grueling stretch of pavement. My legs pounded with every step, the asphalt unforgiving beneath my tired feet. But I hammered it, running with everything I had left, until I passed under the arch of the finish line.
Discomfort Is Part of the Process—And It’s Temporary
The Stone Mill 50 gave me 8 hours and 25 minutes of beautiful trails and painful rewards. The agony faded the moment I crossed the finish line, replaced by a profound sense of pride, knowing I had given everything I had out there.
Victory isn’t about standing on the podium. It’s about the effort—the satisfaction of knowing you’ve pushed further than you thought possible.
Crossing the point of no return can feel terrifying, but the peaceful sensation of uncovering new strength within yourself makes every moment of cold sweat worthwhile. Beyond that point lies a new version of yourself.
And on that cold November day, I was born again.
Pushing Through Fear Reveals Inner Strength
There’s always a moment in every race—just as in life—when you wonder if you can make it. It’s when fear whispers that you’ve reached your limit. But that moment is the perfect time to keep going, to push through fear, turning anxiety into excitement.
On the other side, you’ll find a new version of yourself—stronger and more resilient than before.
Lessons from the Stone Mill 50: Your Coaching Tips
Victory is about effort, not ranking.
Focus on giving everything you’ve got. Success is personal—it’s about surpassing your own limits.
Your strongest competition is yourself.
Use others as reminders of what’s possible, but make the race about pushing your personal limits and growing as an individual.
Endurance is about living moment by moment.
When overwhelm strikes, shrink the task. Take it one mile, one step, or one breath at a time.
Discomfort is part of the process—and it’s temporary.
When your mind says slow down, try speeding up. Action often dissolves discomfort.
Pushing through fear reveals inner strength.
Fear marks the boundary of your potential. Push through it, and you’ll discover what you’re truly capable of.
Final Thoughts: Born to Survive, Born Again to Thrive
For me, the Stone Mill 50 wasn’t just a race—it was a journey of self-discovery. It reminded me that survival isn’t about holding back—it’s about pushing forward, no matter how hard it gets.
We are all born with the instinct to survive. But the real magic happens when you go beyond survival and discover the strength to thrive.
On that cold November day, I wasn’t just running a race—I was chasing something deeper. And when I crossed the finish line, I was born again.
What’s Next?
Take these lessons to your next challenge, whether it's on the trail, in life, or within yourself. Consider working with a trail running coach and a human performance coach.
Remember: the finish line isn’t the goal—it’s the person you become along the way.
Very good article and insights that will hopefully be of use as I embark on my 2nd attempt of SM50. My first attempt in 2019 I was in my best conditioning since I started trail running in 2017 but started late then missed a turn, lost 50 minutes and didn't make the halfway point cutoff by about 15-20 mins. This time although I have a lot more experience trail racing and ultras, my conditioning isn't where I preferred it. But with two weeks to go before towing the line, it is what it. Hopefully I'll complete my elusive first 50 miler...I'll probably need all 13 hours! 😃