Hearing your stories: Michael Mabe
'If an ex-con without an ounce of natural talent can accomplish something as crazy as running with the top one percent in the world, then what does that say about what you can accomplish?'
Morning, friends! ☀️ Something amazing has happened ever since I reached out to you back in February, when I asked you to share your stories about becoming a runner, where running has taken you, and where you dream of going with it.
To a person, every story you’ve shared has moved me, made me think and made me feel — and, they’ve helped me feel closer to the community we’ve all built here together over these past few years, as this is what makes doing this newsletter mean so much to me.
Today, we hear from , whose life has taken him across the U.S. and now lives with his family in Utah. He’s had some big ups and some equally big downs in his life (as he shares below), but through it all I’m incredibly moved by how he has learned from all his experiences — nothing has gone to waste, he has truly taken the time to do some real self-searching.
I know you’ll enjoy his story as much as I did — and, if you feel inspired to share yours, please know I’d love to hear it. Reply back by email or in the comments below, and we’ll go from there! — Terrell
So, let’s hear a little bit about you! Who are you, your age (if you’d like to share), where you’re from, what you do, etc.
My name is Mike Mabe. I am, first-and-foremost, a husband, father, and Christian. I am 39 years old. I am a senior superintendent in commercial construction. I have lived all over the country, but I currently live in Utah and intend to be here for the long haul.
What does your running routine look like? How many times a week, and how far do you run?
I run six days per week. My average running mileage is around 70 miles per week. I, also, lift three times per week. For my shorter runs (six to eight miles), I run on my lunch break. For anything over 10 miles, I will get up before work to knock it out.
Were you an athletic kid growing up? What are your early memories of what fitness and health were about?
I played basketball growing up but was not very good at it. I, also, ran track in high school. My events were the 800-meter, mile, and two-mile. I was, at best, an average runner. A long run for me at that time was five miles.
Health and fitness were not a big focus in my household growing up. We weren't unhealthy, but we didn't make decisions in our eating habits or daily activities that surrounded fitness. Most of what we did was yard work and home remodeling.
How did you first get into running? Was there something that inspired you — like a performance at the Olympics, for example, or a runner you discovered by watching them on social media or TV? Or was there someone in your own life who inspired you to think, ‘maybe I can do this?’
My father was a decent miler in high school track. When I was a teen, he told me a story that made an impression on me and got me started in running.
After serving a mission for our church, he attended college in Idaho. He was on a scholarship playing the drums in the marching band. However, he really enjoyed track and went to open tryouts. The warm-up was conducted by a current distance athlete for the track team. My father did the warm-up [but] was gassed by the end. That was juxtaposed to the current distance athlete who didn't even look like he had run a single stride. That intimidated my father, so he left the track that day and didn't run another day in his life.
He told me this story and said he regretted quitting. Looking back on it, he knew he could have regained the fitness to run with that athlete. He just let fear make the decision, rather than facing it.
How has your interest in running evolved since then? Do you run farther, or faster now?
I got into running in high school, but I was average at best. Running took on greater significance for me after high school, while I was incarcerated.
After high school, I spent 18 months in prison. I started in a lockdown unit for about three months before being sent to a facility operated by the Army National Guard.
Every morning, we did physical training. We would wake up at 6:00 a.m., rush out to the deck and do various body weight exercises — push-ups, pull-ups, sit-ups, lunges, flutter kicks, etc. That was followed by 15 minutes of running on a gravel road that stretched the length of the facility. Most of the inmates walked, but I really enjoyed pushing to go further each day in the 15-minute time limit.
About six months into being there, Mr. Larry, who was a guard, was given permission to gather a select group of inmates to compete in a national competition against many ROTC programs. I, along with seven others, were selected and separated off for physical training three times per day. I spent two months preparing by running countless laps on the gravel path and lifting weights.
At the competition, I competed in the 800-meter, mile, and two-mile events. I still remember running the mile event like it was yesterday. My parents were allowed to come to the competition. They dropped everything and drove out.
I lined up with the other runners. Looking to my left and right, the other runners, in my mind's eye, appeared stronger and faster. I was intimidated. When the gun went off, my hesitant start reflected my intimidation.
I dropped immediately to the back of the pack. It was a familiar position for me, since it was where I often found myself throughout high school at track meets.
Despite being intimidated and being at the back of the pack, I willed myself to meet the runners directly in front of me stride-for-stride. Their strides were so graceful and effortless, while my strides felt heavy and forced. However, I kept up with the chase.
I continued to match their stride through the first two laps. When I passed into the third lap, I looked up and saw my dad. He was standing in the field on the other side of the track. Our eyes met and he nodded his head. It was a small gesture, but it was enough. Suddenly, I wasn't in a competition with military cadets. I was on the gravel path alone.
Past the first turn of the third lap, I surged into the second lane and passed the small group ahead of me. I cut back into the first lane in the middle of the pack, around the second turn. Once on the straightaway again, I maneuvered around two more runners.
The bell rang loudly for the last lap as I passed it. Surveying the field ahead of me, I realized I was in fifth place. First and second were out of reach, but fourth and third were well within reach. I, also, noticed my dad. He was in the same spot in the field, but he wasn't standing calmly like before. He was leaping up-and-down and motioning wildly with his arm for me to keep pushing.
On the first straightaway, I surged ahead and passed fourth before getting back on the inner lane for the final turn. Third was just a few strides ahead, but was pushing the pace going into that final stretch. I matched him stride-for-stride. I couldn't see my father, but could hear him yelling, “that's it, son! That's it!”
On the final stretch, I was locked in a dead sprint for the finish line with third. I watched him out of my peripheral and noticed he kept turning his head to look at me. Just then I knew I had it. If I could just keep sprinting, he would break. I was on that gravel path alone. Just me and the stretch of road ahead. It all felt so natural.
About 10 meters from the finish, third slackened his stride and I soared passed him to the finish line. The cheering at the finish was loud, but above all of it I could hear my father.
It was an incredible moment. One that both he and I remember with satisfaction. Getting on the podium at the mile was the first time I felt any sense of accomplishment.
Now, I run mountain ultra-marathons. I have had the fortunate opportunity to run with the elites in a few UTMB world series events. I haven't been able to keep up with them for a full race yet, but I am working on that.
I love the sport, but I love how it has evolved my family culture. My wife, kids, and parents have come to most of the events. We are developing the belief that we are able to accomplish what we want if we are diligent in our pursuit of it.
What do you balance your running with? Do you have a family to take care of? Kids, parents or other relatives or loved ones? If so, how do you balance all of it and still make time to run/care for yourself?
I am a meticulous scheduler. Every Sunday, I spend an hour planning out my week. I block out time for work and family, then I put in my training where I can. If that means I am getting up at 3:00 a.m. for a run, then that is what it means.
My list of priorities are family, God, work, then running. I plan and then execute, with a commitment to be present in the moment. If I am at home, I am at home. If I am at work, I am at work. If I am running, then I am running.
Is there anything you’re especially proud of that you can point to your running and say, ‘this helped me achieve ______’?
I recently ran the Speedgoat 50K. It didn't go according to plan. I ran in the top twenty for about half the race, then the wheels came off.
About a mile out from the finish, I ended up in a foot race with a 20-year-old in front of me. I was able to chase him down. He sped up for about a quarter mile before pulling off to the side. I thought he was relenting, but then saw him puke. I stopped at his side, placed my hand on his shoulder, and, while offering my hand I said, “let's finish this together, brother.” He wiped his mouth, smiled, took my hand, and we ran the last quarter mile to the finish together.
I have suffered like that in races and have had similar kindness extended to me. That's one of the many things I love about this sport. We are competing against each other, because it is a race; however, we are in the trenches together and forming a unique bond. It didn't seem so much like a conscious act of kindness that I committed as just fulfilling the culture of the sport.
What have you learned about yourself from your running journey? Is there anything that’s changed about you since you started?
Remain humble and hungry. As “Bad-A” as you might think you are, there is always someone bigger and badder. You better be ready to face them.
Where would you like to go with your running? Is there anything special you’d like to achieve — like, say, running all six World Marathon Majors, or running an ultra?
I want to podium at some of the worlds most competitive mountain ultra-marathons. I am actually writing about my experience on my Substack. Feel free to check it out!
What keeps you going? Especially if you’ve been running for a while — do you ever get bored with it? How do you find new things to motivate you, to keep you going?
I am not motivated to run all the time. I don't know anyone who can stay motivated forever. When I am staring at my shoes and struggling to put them on, I just remember why I am doing this. I am trying to accomplish something that seems near impossible for two reasons:
I want that to be the culture with which my kids grow up. If you want something, go get it.
I want to bring hope to the hopeless. After all, if an ex-con without an ounce of natural talent can accomplish something as crazy as running with the top one percent in the world, then what does that say about what you can accomplish?
Look back at yourself when you were a kid, maybe say 10 years old. Remember how you felt, what you thought, especially what you thought you were capable of back then. If you could talk to that kid now, what would you say?
Keep your head up, kid, and grind.
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Congrats Mike and thanks for sharing. And thanks to Terrell for offering this forum. These personal stories are always so inspiring.
........Thank you for sharing...........I love ": Hebrews 12:1 Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race set before us."............you put aside your baggage and set goals....the verse makes me want to look up and forward........it takes away my fears and clears my heart and my mind. Thank you again for sharing your amazing story. You are a Blessing!