My marathon journey began not with a desire for athletic achievement, but as a desperate search for solid ground. Fresh out of university, I had squandered family investments through reckless crypto trading and day trading, watching hundreds of thousands evaporate with each failed position. This financial catastrophe sparked a downward spiral of alcoholism and self-destructive habits, each day blurring into the next until I couldn’t recognize myself anymore. I needed something concrete, something with a clear start and finish line—where success or failure would be mine alone to own. That first marathon became my benchmark, setting a time that would stand for the next four years. After crossing that finish line, I swore never to run another marathon. One seemed enough to pull me back from the edge.

Early morning run

Life had other plans. Marriage brought unexpected challenges, including a playful bet with my wife, whose blind optimism pushed me toward my second marathon. But this run revealed an uncomfortable truth: I had grown weak, living in the shadow of my first achievement. The illusion of who I thought I had become after that initial success began to crack.

My wife supporting me as the F1 Mobile Aid Station

The third marathon became my shot at redemption. I poured everything into my training, pushing myself to reclaim what I had lost. Finishing just a minute shy of my first marathon’s time was both frustrating and enlightening—I knew I could do better, knew I had to try again.

Do the Hard Thing

The fourth marathon might have followed the same pattern, but something changed. The network school and its community of competitive runners introduced me to a different level of training—the seemingly impossible challenge of running 100km in a week. For someone whose highest weekly mileage barely touched 60km, this felt like stepping into unknown territory.

Running with cramps

Then came the breakthrough, two weeks before my fourth marathon. During the 100km challenge week, everything changed. It started with a half-marathon personal best that transformed my understanding of running—suddenly, it felt like flying. The physical shackles I’d carried for so long simply fell away. But what happened next would shatter every mental barrier I’d built over the years.

Cant stop

By Saturday night of that week, I’d logged 67km, securing what I thought was a comfortable first place in the challenge. Satisfied with my performance and the half-marathon PB, I was ready to rest. I assumed the “legends”—Marianna and Milan—might overtake me slightly, but I was content with my efforts. That’s when everything changed.

Sunday morning, I watched in disbelief as Milan completed a half-marathon. Then Marianna followed suit. Throughout the day, they kept pushing: Milan adding 12km, then 6km more; Marianna logging 14km, then 10km, then another 10km. Each Strava notification felt like a punch to the gut. There I was, at the zoo playing the dutiful husband, later seeking refuge in the air-conditioned comfort of Starbucks with my laptop, trying to convince myself that coding was more important than this challenge. But with each new notification, something inside me began to crack.

unleashing the beast

The façade of contentment shattered. Balaji’s words echoed in my head: “Am I a normie, hardcore, or just a normie thinking he is hardcore?” Sitting here in comfort while they pushed their limits? This was the moment I’d been waiting for—true legends showing me what it means to go beyond reasonable limits. This wasn’t just about a weekly mileage challenge anymore; this was about who I really am when pushed to the edge. Either I rise to meet this moment, or I accept mediocrity as my ceiling forever.

At 7:50 PM, armed with gels and determination, I headed out. Earlier that week, Milan had joked about someone running until the last minute—something I’d dismissed as crazy. But there I was, running in the dark, chasing legends. When I checked Strava at 9:30 PM after completing 16km, I saw Milan had logged another 10km. First place was out of reach, but Marianna’s 100km second-place position beckoned.

Thank you, Marianna

Until 11:58 PM, I ran like I’d never run before. Every step was a battle against what I thought possible. In the end, I cleared Marianna’s distance by just 190 meters—a margin so small it almost felt apologetic, but it represented everything I’d been missing in my training for the past four years.

The legends - Milan and Marianna who pushed me beyond my limits, Special thanks to Peter for organizing!

This was the crazy, unfathomable challenge I needed. While I’d always had the discipline to follow training plans, I’d never pushed beyond what seemed reasonable. The network school and its legends showed me that the barriers I’d accepted were self-imposed.

Finishing

That fourth marathon became my crowning achievement: 4 hours and 31 minutes, a new personal best. But more than the time, it showed me that being surrounded by aligned people who are crazier than you are, you will find yourself pushed to be better, and not let them down.

Celebrating with the Network School running community

Now, standing at this new threshold, I find myself in a paradoxical state—stronger than ever, yet acutely aware of how fragile this strength can be. The momentum I’ve built feels powerful, but only when I maintain it at 100%.

The primary thing when you take a sword in your hands is your intention to cut the enemy, whatever the means. Whenever you parry, hit, spring, strike or touch the enemy's cutting sword, you must cut the enemy in the same movement. It is essential to attain this. If you think only of hitting, springing, striking or touching the enemy, you will not be able actually to cut him.

Like a sword master’s focus, as Oz reminded me, success comes not from thinking about the hit, but from the unwavering intention to cut the enemy.

Carrying boats around the island with Tim

My enemy is clear: the sub-4 marathon. Not just as a time to beat, but as a symbol of the self-imposed limitations I continue to break through. The journey continues, and this time, every step is fueled by the knowledge that my true potential lies not in comfortable achievements, but in those moments when I dare to push beyond what seems possible.

Success