Navigating Through Difficult Moments to Discover Our True Selves

Recently, my partner and I reflected on my journey as an athlete, a path marked by both triumphs and setbacks. I have faced the daunting challenges of injury and the existential dread that often accompanies them. In May of 2015, after completing a series of ultramarathons and just two days post The Dirty 30, my body reached a breaking point—my adrenal functioning collapsed. During a routine 8-mile training run, I found myself unable to continue, literally. One moment, I was running; the next, I was slowly walking back home. It became clear that there can indeed be too much of a good thing. For over a decade, hiking, climbing, and running in the mountains had been my identity, the essence of my life beyond work.

Suddenly, I was lost. One moment, I was an ultra-endurance athlete; the next, I felt like just another person. The community that had been my support continued to run forward, leaving me feeling left behind, along with my perceived identity and value. Yet, this was merely the narrative I had created. In truth, I had been running—literally and figuratively—away from myself, from the traumas of my past as a child welfare and mental health professional, and from the insecurities that had accumulated over the years. My friends still cared, but the loss of meaning I got from running and the connection it created with my friends made it seem as though I had not just had a temporary setback; it felt like I was losing status and connection with my community. It was during this period of stillness that I began to see things more clearly than ever before, though it was uncomfortable. I discovered meditation and coaching, two transformative practices that changed my life. Through meditation, I learned to embrace myself with kindness and compassion, to sit with my thoughts and feelings as a whole and complete person. Coaching provided me with a framework to relate to myself in a positive light, regardless of the changes in my athletic pursuits. I came to understand that I am not defined solely by my achievements; I am an athlete, a dad, a professional, and, most importantly, a person worthy of love and respect, irrespective of my athletic endeavors. I was able to acknowledge that even if I were to never run another race, climb another mountain, ride another mile, or compete in another jiu-jitsu tournament, the accomplishments, experiences, and friendships I built will remain, and I get to make the choice. Do I let them become an anchor that keeps me trapped in a feeling of sadness and loss, or do I turn them into a beautiful backdrop through which I build an increasingly fulfilled life?

More recently, during a judo class, I injured my ribs, separating them. Upon visiting urgent care, I learned that I would be sidelined for at least three weeks, possibly a month or more. In that moment, instead of succumbing to panic, I took a deep breath and embraced the discomfort. I recognized the myriad opportunities that lay within this challenge. This shift in perspective is the true power of coaching and meditation—it allows us to find growth in adversity and to redefine our identities in a way that honors our whole selves.

My experience was about sports, but many of us face some version of this story when things change in unexpected ways. What story will you tell when change comes? What choice will you make?