The Wild Dog Blog

Tag: mindset

  • “What Do You Think About When You’re Running?” – Dunes 50K, April 26 2025

    Dunes 50K – 6 hours & 25 minutes – 3rd Overall Female, 13th Overall

    “This is what I’m good at” I keep repeating to myself as I push to the finish, imagining I’m a freight train, legs unstoppable at the end of a race. While most people are starting to walk and wish for the day to be done, I’m coming alive.

    “I’m not the fastest, but I might be the strongest” so I know that if I stay focused, my legs will have no problem with a big effort in the last 6 miles of the race despite the fatigue from hours of running sand dunes in the south Florida heat.

    “This is why I train the way I do. To back down now would be a waste of all of those hours I spent hiking on the treadmill and under a heavy barbell.” By the last few miles of the race, I’m sure I’ve created enough of a gap between myself and the 4th place female that I’ve secured a podium finish, but that doesn’t matter. What matters is finishing knowing I gave my honest best. I don’t want to finish on cruise control, just because I’ve guaranteed myself a spot on the podium. I want to finish right on the edge of what I’m capable of, because that’s why I’m out there. To find out how deep I can dig when it seems impossible that there could be anything left.

    I think about Jasmin Paris who was the first woman to finish the notorious Barkley Marathons. I think about how race director Gary Cantrell aka Lazarus Lake described what she achieved as a “mathematical impossibility.” On paper, she was not capable of doing what she did. She tapped into a reserve that couldn’t be measured and did the impossible.

    I round the final corner of the trail and sprint the last stretch to the finish. “What’s possible for me if I continue to explore?”

  • Become a Gardener

    When we’re creating something, there’s so much out of our control. We can really only control what we choose to create and how we choose to create it – we can’t control whether or not it becomes something that’s meaningful to others or makes an impact.

    I think of creating as planting a seed in the ground. I picture myself cradling the seed in my hands before parting the cool, damp dirt aside to bury it in the soil. After I cover it up and pat the dirt down on top, all I can do is come back to the same spot each day to water and keep the weeds away. All I can do is use the tools that I have to cultivate what I’ve planted. When it starts to grow and at what rate it grows isn’t up to me. 

    To create is to accept and find freedom in becoming the gardener of your ideas.

  • Doors of Opportunity

    Everyone wants the doors of opportunity to open. But how many people are actually prepared for what it will take to walk through them once they do?

    The most exciting opportunities put you on the hook to elevate your game. The work is only just beginning when a new door opens and an opportunity presents itself.

  • Begin Again

    How many times do we begin again in this life? Probably more than we realize. I think it’s possible that we all make small choices everyday that allow for renewal, without even noticing. 

    Making an effort to be kind to someone you’ve been dismissive of, engaging with a stranger when you normally would avoid conversation, picking up a book instead of your phone, starting a new journal – are all split second decisions made in fleeting moments. But that doesn’t make them trivial. 

    Beginning again doesn’t always have to happen in the form of a life altering decision or big leap of faith. It can happen in the barely noticeable changes in how we show up and the choices we make and the “hops” of faith that take us farther than we ever could have predicted.

  • Renewal

    Over a decade ago in Bastrop, Texas, high winds, downed power lines, and drought conditions caused the most destructive fire in state history. It burned 34,000 acres of land in 55 days. The pine forests in and around Bastrop State Park are still recovering. 

    This past January, I ran my first 100K ultramarathon in Bastrop State Park and got to see first hand the charred landscape that was reminiscent of the elephant graveyard in “The Lion King.” But I also got to see the start of new growth – young pine trees scattered throughout the park, their evergreen pine needles standing out in sharp contrast to blackened stumps and the golden brown trail. It was a beautiful and inspiring place to explore for 62 miles.

    Forest or human, nothing and no one is immune to the cycle of degeneration and regeneration. I’m thankful to the forests that show us how it’s done and remind us of our own capacity for renewal.

  • Smile When You Stumble

    When a young child is learning to walk and stumbles, we smile and appreciate their flawed effort. But when we’re learning and stumble, we berate ourselves and resent our shortcomings. We watch children struggle with a light heart because we believe in their resiliency and the important role that missteps will play in their growth. But we rarely offer this same belief to ourselves.

    Smile when you stumble. It’s a humbling part of being human and gives you the opportunity to rise.

  • Keep Your Hand on the Rudder

    What starts as a passion driven and process oriented pursuit with others in mind can quickly become an ego driven and outcome oriented pursuit with only yourself in mind if you’re not paying attention. 

    To be aware is to catch yourself when your hand has gotten lazy on the rudder and you start drifting off course. It’s only human to get distracted, but how soon and how accurately can you course correct? Your ability to stay true to your values and steer your ship accordingly will determine your sense of fulfillment and your potential for impact.

  • The Centipede

    I watched a centipede make its way along the bannister at the end of the boardwalk. It would inch along for a few seconds, stick its head up to look around, and then continue on. It almost seemed as if it were looking for something, but for what I wasn’t sure. 

    Are we any different from that centipede? Try as we might, we’re unable to see what’s ahead of us or maybe not even sure what we’re looking for. We can only move forward in faith that our path will continue to unfold. 

    I watched the centipede fall from the banister and thought about picking it up to return it to its place, but I stopped myself. Isn’t that how we all get to where we need to be? By pursuing a path, getting redirected by failure or the unexpected, and discovering a new and often better path as a result. 

    I sat there, staring at the centipede curled up on the ground, wondering if it could have died from its fall. A few seconds later, it uncurled, stretched its head up to look around, and dutifully continued on its way. It was a humbling reminder of what’s available to all of us – the choice to keep inching along undeterred, no matter how many times the path changes up ahead.

  • Writing as a Teacher

    Writing has taught me to just start and figure out the rest later. It’s taught me to act without a plan and without knowing if what I’m doing will ever mean anything to anyone but me.

    It’s taught me to explore for the sake of exploring and with no outcome in mind. 

    A decade of putting words onto paper privately and I’m just now venturing into what it looks like to share some of those words publicly. I couldn’t have known how rewarding it would be to do so when I bought my first journal 10 years ago.

     It’s a testimony to acting without knowing. What interests or curiosities are you not acting on because you can’t perceive a clear goal or outcome? Act first and let the purpose reveal itself over time.

  • A Test of Mindfulness

    When I first started ultrarunning, I relied almost entirely on grit to get to the other side of long training runs and tough races. I found myself drawing from a deep well of stubbornness and determination to not be a quitter. 

    This is a strength in its own right and I certainly still play to this side of my mental toughness. But to tap into the next level of performance I’ve found myself focusing less on what I want to avoid – quitting – and focusing more on what I want to cultivate – presence. 

    At the start line, I used to ask myself how gritty I would choose to be and now I ask myself how present I will choose to be. Can I allow the ebb and flow of discomfort and accept and move with whatever comes my way? Can I be so focused on each step that the finish line becomes almost obsolete, a forgotten byproduct of the day?

    The gritty side of mental toughness is useful and has its place no doubt, but to make an ultramarathon a test of mindfulness has brought a new layer of meaning and fulfillment to the adventure.