I came back in 2024. 2025 is for thriving.

2024 was my first healthy year since 2018. It was the first year I hadn't DNFed from a race since 2017. I look back on all those years before and think, how could I have been so blind to my own self-destruction? It’s wild that I could be so passionate yet unable to stop myself from destructive behaviors that undermined my goals.

What does it mean to be back? Do I have to be a likely contender at the Western States or UTMB again to be "back"? I thought so, but after a year of racing and improving, I realize that it's not the result that signifies the return to racing; it's the ability to push.

In Feb 2024, I ran the Black Canyons 100k as my return to racing. The training block was inconsistent. I didn't have the capacity to push. I felt like a rusty car, threatening to crumble whenever the foot was on the gas. I talked to the talk, hoping that I could fake it, but I didn't have the chops. You have to train fast to race fast, and I was not confident enough to try.

A week before the race, I was informed that I had been accused of cutting the course at Javelina 100k in 2021 and that a group of people were worried I would do the same at Black Canyons. The accuser was someone I had trusted with my career and as a friend. It felt like heartbreak. While the situation was resolved behind closed doors, going into Black Canyons with the doubt of a friend and, in a way, a colleague magnified the doubt I harbored within myself.

Did I still belong? What was I doing there?

I was no longer injured, but I certainly wasn't back. And while a part of me wished I hadn't toed the line at Black Canyons, it did force me to recommit.

I hired a new coach with CTS, pulled out of the Canyons 100k, and finally had a consistent block leading up to the Eiger Ultra Trail. But consistency doesn't necessarily equate to strength. I still was dealing with niggles that held me back. I lamented to my now PT, Kameron Harder, on a Chamonix training run leading up to the race that while I could sustain the volume, my body was still in too much pain to push.

After rolling my ankle at Eiger, I hired him, too.

It wasn't until I was training for UTMB Thailand at the beginning of December that I felt some semblance of strength. I could do back-to-back days without pain. I could run workouts without feeling like the nuts and bolts of my body would rattle loose.

The strength in my stride and the confidence, not in my fitness but in my body's ability to cope with the effort, felt like a drug. This is what it means to be back—to be healthy, strong, and capable.

I didn't win the race in Thailand as I'd hoped, but the ability to race hard was a win enough for me.

So 2024 might have been the year of the comeback, but it took the entire year.

An athlete sent me a message the other day asking about coming back from injury. "How do you remain focused on the long-term gains when an injury or setback clouds your immediate vision?"

Love. The. Process.

I wanted to be back on podiums in 2024, and I wasn't. My body couldn't cope with the work, and the fitness was slower to come than I'd thought possible. The realization that I am not the same athlete as I was and that fitness gains will not come as fast as they used to was a stark one. But every day, I showed up, and I enjoyed it- even when it sucked. Even when showing up meant opting for rest or an easy run instead of the workout. I wasn't always happy about it, but I was always grateful.

I came back in 2024. 2025 is for thriving.

And in 2025, I am committed to more long form content, which really suits me better than the quick hit of an Instagram post anyway. I am revamping the podcast (again) and am determined to be consistent. I am also starting on Substack where I hope to publish content for everyone, and some exclusive content for subscribers once I figure out how all of that works. Tech is not my strong suit, I am learning. Stay tuned.