Breaking Cycles, Building Strength: How Ultrarunning Transformed Me

On October 15, 2023, I made a promise to myself and my closest friends: “Next October, I’m running the Ghost Train race with my mom.” I said in a text in our group chat. My family and my friends never once doubted me for a second, offering up support and words of encouragement along my journey. Signing up for the 30-hour option felt natural come registration day—after all, my mom had just completed it, and she has always embodied resilience and strength. Watching her take on such an incredible challenge filled me with the determination to pursue my own ambitious goal. I knew that if I possessed even a fraction of her grit, I could rise to the occasion and accomplish something extraordinary.

Growing up, my parents instilled in me a motto I’m sure many have heard: “You can achieve anything you set your mind to.” This belief has shaped who I am and how I approach life’s challenges. However, training for this ultramarathon forced me to confront a deeply personal struggle: my battle with cannabis use disorder (CUD), alcohol, and nicotine. Despite training hard, following my plan, and feeling good about my progress, I found myself slipping back into my old smoking habits. Some days passed in a haze, where I barely left my room except for essentials like eating and personal hygiene. I blamed my smoking on sleep issues and the stress of working in the food and beverage industry, pointing fingers anywhere but at myself. I’d tell myself, “I’m done once I finish my current supply,” only to feel desperate for more by the end, heightening my anxiety. It was a destructive cycle, one that I knew was undermining not just my training, but the person I wanted to become.

The internal conflict was brutal. I didn’t want to let my family and friends know about my struggle; I felt the need to uphold the perception that I had everything under control, even though I hadn’t run, let alone exercised, in weeks. I felt like a fraud, leading people to believe one thing, when my reality felt and looked much different. I had invested so much time and energy into preparing for this ultramarathon—into becoming stronger and healthier. Yet these habits were holding me back. Deep down, I knew I had the strength to overcome this roadblock and carry a positive mentality into this race, which now held even more significance for me than it did three months ago when I first started my training block.

Smoking didn’t align with who I was or who I aspired to be. Each time I fell into that cycle, I felt I was betraying my goals, my support system, and myself. It wasn’t just about the physical toll on my lungs or stamina—it was a mental and emotional drain. I realized smoking was affecting me financially, emotionally, and physically. I lost almost two valuable months of training, time I now regret losing, knowing how much more I could have accomplished without this setback. But I’m also grateful for this struggle because it showed me the version of myself I no longer wanted to be going forward.

This isn’t to say that smoking or cannabis use is inherently bad; like most things in life, moderation is key. I often joke with friends and family about having the “too much gene.” In hindsight, that was just another way of avoiding responsibility for behaviors that negatively impacted my life. Whether it was cannabis, spending, or alcohol, I often craved more than I needed, letting these habits define me. Rarely did I take accountability for the hurt I caused myself and others. Though my overconsumption habits have declined since college, I sometimes used social occasions as an excuse to let loose. Through recent self-reflection, I’ve realized that if I want to live up to my fullest potential, something has to change.

Addiction wasn’t my only challenge during training. Like many young adults, I’ve struggled with disordered thinking about the relationship between food and exercise, influenced in part by growing up with social media. I used to see food as numbers rather than fuel, finding that calorie-counting apps like MyFitnessPal did more harm than good. Comments about my body affected my self-worth and my approach to exercise. I would over-exercise on days I thought I’d eaten “unhealthily,” as if I had to punish myself. Though I’m still working to overcome that mindset, I’ve made great strides in shifting my perspective. Now, I see food as the fuel that powers my body through tough workouts. I stopped counting calories, except when preparing fuel for races, and focused instead on how food makes me feel. I embraced intuitive eating, letting go of guilt and learning to enjoy indulgences in moderation. After all, what’s the meaning to life without something sweet every now and then? More importantly, I’ve learned that my worth isn’t tied to my appearance but to how I feel and what my body can do. I am incredibly grateful to have a body that allows me to participate in a sport I love.

Eventually, I found the strength to pull myself out of destructive cycles, both with smoking and my relationship with food. I committed to rebuilding the routines that made me feel strong, centered, and connected to my goals. Breaking these habits wasn’t easy—they were years in the making—but it was necessary. I regained control, not just over my training but over my mindset and my future. That period of self-isolation taught me resilience and deepened my resolve to leave behind the things that no longer serve me.

As I refocused on my ultramarathon training, I reminded myself that this journey was about more than physical endurance—it was about mental endurance, too. Running for hours tests not only your body but also your mind. Music became one of my greatest tools, helping me tune out negativity and reconnect with the joy I first felt when I began running in high school. I even discovered a newfound love for Taylor Swift’s music, finding unexpected confidence in her lyrics. Similarly, creative fueling methods kept me mentally in check during my toughest runs, reminding me that ultrarunning is as much about enjoyment as it is about endurance. As Ann Trason, one of the greatest ultrarunners of all time, once said, "Ultramarathons are just a big eating and drinking competition with a little bit of running thrown in."

Initially, my goal was to run 30 miles (which I am happy to report that I exceeded my goal and did 45), but as I worked through my challenges, my goal became simpler: “Go out there and have fun.” This ultramarathon is no longer just the finish line; it’s the beginning of something bigger for me. To keep enjoying this sport, I’ve learned to listen to my body, honor its needs, and respect its limitations. What’s the point of doing something I love if I push myself to injury? Who am I trying to prove something to, other than myself? These questions kept me grounded and helped me set healthy boundaries—boundaries that helped me cross the mental finish line long before race day.

Every run, every mile, is a reminder of how far I’ve come—not just as a runner, but as a person. I’ve faced setbacks, battled addiction, struggled with body image, and lost valuable time, yet I’ve emerged stronger, more determined, and focused on the future. I wouldn’t be who I am today without the unwavering support of my family, my friends in Essex Junction and Boston, my crew at The Tavern, and everyone who has pushed me through mental blocks along the way. It’s your voices that I hear when I need a boost, and it’s you who inspire me to keep going when I feel like quitting.

If there’s one message I hope to share, it’s this: if I can overcome these obstacles and rediscover my passion, so can you. We all face challenges, but finding the strength to push through—day by day, one step at a time—is what truly matters. Keep showing up for yourself. You’ll be amazed at what you can achieve.