I've been fortunate enough (thus far) to have the foresight to know when to push because it is hard and when to quit because it is dangerous.
The only exception to this was in 2010. In hindsight, I was overtraining (completed Boston in April, ran a half marathon in early June, a second half marathon in early August) and very literally hit a wall one weekend in mid-August at a fitness conference where I did 10 hours of boot camps and spin classes over 2.5 days. After this, no amount of willpower remained to get me to lace my shoes and go out. I did not recognize I was overtraining because I never got injured, had no immune system issues, and my menstrual cycle still ran like clockwork. Nothing I was taught to look for applied, I was simply unmotivated and did not feel like getting out of bed for anything other than what I was obligated to.
But one of those obligations was pacing a client for the Portland marathon. By mid September, I realized that this was not in my best interest to force myself through. I did not want to end up hating running, as it has given me so much in life and has been so essential to my mental well being and (at the time) my very identity. I still flew to Portland to support her, and gave my bib to someone we knew in the running community to run in my place.
It took me almost 2 years to want to run again. I was very lost for months. But in that space of not knowing who I was or how I could stay active in a way that inspired me, I discovered a form of activity that was perfect for what I needed in life - circus acrobatics! I never would have tried it had I been running because running was everything and stunting is .. well, dangerous! The risk of a knee issue or twisted ankle would have kept me from accepting an offer to join a ghetto circus troupe as an acrobat. And joining that motley crew of wild humans taught me exercise as a form of play, that you can challenge your body without weights, a gym, or anything more than gravity. It was one of the most magical times of my life! I still miss it to this day. It's really hard to find adult acrobatics classes and few people out in the world are strong enough that I feel comfortable jumping up on their shoulders so they can walk around with me finally being tall enough to see over the crowd. 😂
Obviously, I came back to running eventually, but it was a very long and winding journey filled with delays and distractions. It would be almost a decade before I was able to run another half marathon.
I just attempted my first 100k. Finished with 98.1. Not 100.
First time I have ever not completed a race/ planned distance. It was hard to pull the plug. I have always said I will finish no matter what even if I have to crawl across the finish. I know I made the right call, and I also know how close I was.
It was a TOUGH course. Tons of incline and on a loop system, so completing meant 3 more trips uphill, which became the easy part, because it was the 3 trips downhill that became the issue. I fell twice early in the day, the 2nd time right on my knee. Fast-forward to 19+ hours on the course and I was literally scooting downhill on my butt to not put pressure on the knee.
Did I make the right call, yes, am I happy about it....no. But I didn't explode! (joke for my therapist at next session)
Oh, wow! I have told myself the same - that even if i have to crawl I will finish what I start. I cannot imagine making that call so close to the finish! I don't know if I could control my ego that much. Good for you!
Thank you.... I know "people say" knowing when to stop is a sign of strength too, but it is not something I have ever believed to be okay for myself. I am still unsettled about it, hopefully that will pass. I think the hardest part is that I know every part of me easily had that left, it wasn't like my whole body or mind was done. It was just the left knee. :/
I am age 69, I I have completed 60 marathons, 36 marathons have been in my 60's. I am running 75 marathons , my 75th marathon at age 75. I have not decided yet if I will drop dead when I cross the finish line at age 75 , or if I will establish a new goal of 100 marathons by age 100.
So, I ran Tokyo on March 1st. I ended up getting swept at mile 18.1. I had a good training block and about an hour or so after my last long run before taper started getting a sore throat. I ended up sick with some virus. It wasn't the flu or covid but it sucked. The day before we flew to Japan I was at urgent care as my illness was rebounding and getting worse. I went to Tokyo with antibiotics and steroids. I never felt right the entire time we were in Japan, but when race day came around I felt well enough to start. I was running great for about the first 15K and then after that the wheels started coming off. Even without the strict cutoff points I don't think I could have finished the race that day. I finally felt like myself again about 2 weeks after the race. With the trip already paid for, and Tokyo not allowing deferments, I felt I had to go and attempt the race, even though I knew the chances were good that I would not be successful. Had the option to defer been available, I,likely would have quit that race to give it a go in 2027 instead.
Aww man. Glad that you were able to start and feel good for at least part of it, and sorry about the fact you had to push with all plans in progress. Hard part when we travel to big events...
Thank you Debby. It was rough but I am committed to getting another entry and trying again. On the plus side, I thought Japan was amazing and look forward to a return trip.
This is such an interesting dilemma and I think it's something very personal and unique to an individual. I will try and explain.
As someone that has never been very good at knowing my limits or stopping, I have pushed through extreme pain and illness to do things more often than I can remember. It sounds like bragging and commendable. And often this has been the case. Making it to the end of a trail run with blood running down my leg after a tumble is more about hurt pride. Sometimes, the line between good and bad has been blurry. Having a chest infection and taking antibiotics in order to run an event may not be for everyone (there was no long term damage). Other times, it had been silly and potentially life threatening. That said, I only knew it in hindsight. I had no idea that I was doing 20km training runs with a 36cm blood clot in my leg and multiple clots in my lungs. That I was on the brink of a stroke. Perhaps I should've known that the inability to breathe a couple of times and the pain in my legs was not just delayed recovery from Paris Marathon.
I think we all have our own levels of pain and risk tolerance. Somehow we have to align that with making decisions about whether we continue or not. Personally I have trouble with using the terms "quitting" and "opting out". For most (competitive) people, that in itself gives a dubious message. I prefer thinking of it as equipping ourselves as best we can to make good decisions, particularly when judgement is a little clouded. It also means allowing ourselves to make choices that may not reflect as well on social media.
I ran a marathon where I finished last in 7 hours. I did not quit. I got lost and had to go poop at mile 17, but the last port-a-potty was at mile 15. I started walking, and I passed a guy cutting his grass. He asked me if I was in the marathon, and I asked him if I could use his bathroom. The paramedics asked him to check on me. I started out. I took second in my age group. I have the plaque mounted on my wall. I ran several half marathons while undergoing chemo for lymphoma. I also rode in an ambulance at the end of two of them from dehydration. While undergoing chemo for leukemia, I took my IV pole (which I named George) and walked around the nurse's station at the M D Anderson Cancer Center in Houston. Three times a day, 10 laps, covered 3 miles.
I have a lot more marathon stories, like the race I lost to a 91-year-old runner. I finished in 6:40, he finished in 6:20, but he set the US record for 90+ runners, so I didn't feel as bad. Or the marathon I ran in driving rain the whole way at 40°F temperatures. Or the race where the wind chill was 17F the whole way. And the two half marathons where I ended up in the ER due to dehydration, of course, I ran both of those while undergoing chemo for lymphoma.
Personally, I admire the bravery and strength of those who decide to opt out or quit based on a personal decision making process. I quit a very good job about 8 years ago. It was a tough decision but I knew I would be happier going forward. Thank goodness it all worked out and I have never regretted it.
As far as participating in endurance events, I have quit a long distance cross country ski event when I realized that I just was not up to the distance. I had not slept well in the days leading up to the race and I knew I did not have the energy and resolve to finish it and enjoy the process.
On the other hand, I was more than half-way into an ultra race and started to think that I should drop out. However, I was too far in and there was not a good stopping point. So I just kept going. Somehow. Circumstances forced me to continue. I finished the race but it was not a pretty picture.
The great benefit of running is the self empowerment that comes from demonstrating to yourself that you can marshall the resolve to finish. But this means taking on risk, because discomfort and efforts are signals about risk. Therefore, too much grit can produce negative expected outcomes, which is not good. I find it often helps to explicitly define "exit rules," for example, I will quit to avoid serious injury etc., which may well be different for A and B events. I wrote about the concept of risk taking in my piece https://thelongbrownpath.com/2025/11/19/smart-grit-stupid-grit-old-grit-young-grit/
This is super interesting… I’ve been thinking about this a lot recently, because we tend to view this (or get exhorted to) in a binary way, where quitting is always presented negatively. But sometimes we need to be honest with ourselves about what we can actually do, you know? “Sucking the marrow out of life doesn’t mean choking on the bone,” as they say. Will definitely check out the link 👍
The title immediately brought to mind this week’s Coconono 250. So many stories of people winning over their doubts. So many other stories, not of quitting, but of pushing yourself to the nth degree and having to surrender. And a woman was the overall winner and course record holder who conquered her doubts and did not quit.
That race WAS amazing; I didn't follow it in real time, but hearing about it since the weekend, it sounds like I missed something pretty special. Rachel Entrekin is just flat-out amazing.
I saw small Facebook updates, I had a sense of how the race was unfolding. But seeing her Running in town and then sprinting the last little bit was incredible. And she was smiling the whole time.
Depends on the why, who I am doing this for, and will there be a sense of satisfaction for me at the end. But first, when I'm thinking of opting out - I consider what i can do different to find that satisfaction. If nothing, then I'm done!
I had a miserable marathon, devastating mentally and physically. Wasn't going to do that ever again. I was done! Then, I took the time to figure out what was missing/wrong. I answered those questions, I registered for another marathon. It was perfect "for me". Will I do another one? Doubt it. I enjoy long runs, just not that long. Now I'm looking forward to a decade of half marathons.
I will say first - in running - I also took a bad fall (broken bones, teeth, surgery...), and I have gained so much from *not* quitting.
my running comeback is 2+ years in the making, and it's been hard. but I'm so glad I *didn't* quit.
But your question actually made me think of a work situation:
I was struggling, and it felt so hard. Of course I thought the problem was me (and of course, it was! at least partially..). But I couldn't figure out how to make it better. It was just a bad fit - but I believed I could, through the force of my will, change it.
I couldn't.
I remember that one day, on my way home, I just heard a voice, loud and clear in my head: 'I'm done'. It was the truth.
After that, I felt so calm. Even though I didn't have another job - or any prospects for one! And even though it took a few more weeks - I resigned, and headed out to the unknown.
This is such a great example, Cathie. And, I’d bet, an experience most of us go through at some point. I know I did in my first marriage; you describe how I felt perfectly, in fact! It took quitting (for both of us) to see the truth: that this wasn’t working and would *never* work. And we both felt a huge sense of relief after.
I've been fortunate enough (thus far) to have the foresight to know when to push because it is hard and when to quit because it is dangerous.
The only exception to this was in 2010. In hindsight, I was overtraining (completed Boston in April, ran a half marathon in early June, a second half marathon in early August) and very literally hit a wall one weekend in mid-August at a fitness conference where I did 10 hours of boot camps and spin classes over 2.5 days. After this, no amount of willpower remained to get me to lace my shoes and go out. I did not recognize I was overtraining because I never got injured, had no immune system issues, and my menstrual cycle still ran like clockwork. Nothing I was taught to look for applied, I was simply unmotivated and did not feel like getting out of bed for anything other than what I was obligated to.
But one of those obligations was pacing a client for the Portland marathon. By mid September, I realized that this was not in my best interest to force myself through. I did not want to end up hating running, as it has given me so much in life and has been so essential to my mental well being and (at the time) my very identity. I still flew to Portland to support her, and gave my bib to someone we knew in the running community to run in my place.
It took me almost 2 years to want to run again. I was very lost for months. But in that space of not knowing who I was or how I could stay active in a way that inspired me, I discovered a form of activity that was perfect for what I needed in life - circus acrobatics! I never would have tried it had I been running because running was everything and stunting is .. well, dangerous! The risk of a knee issue or twisted ankle would have kept me from accepting an offer to join a ghetto circus troupe as an acrobat. And joining that motley crew of wild humans taught me exercise as a form of play, that you can challenge your body without weights, a gym, or anything more than gravity. It was one of the most magical times of my life! I still miss it to this day. It's really hard to find adult acrobatics classes and few people out in the world are strong enough that I feel comfortable jumping up on their shoulders so they can walk around with me finally being tall enough to see over the crowd. 😂
Obviously, I came back to running eventually, but it was a very long and winding journey filled with delays and distractions. It would be almost a decade before I was able to run another half marathon.
I just attempted my first 100k. Finished with 98.1. Not 100.
First time I have ever not completed a race/ planned distance. It was hard to pull the plug. I have always said I will finish no matter what even if I have to crawl across the finish. I know I made the right call, and I also know how close I was.
It was a TOUGH course. Tons of incline and on a loop system, so completing meant 3 more trips uphill, which became the easy part, because it was the 3 trips downhill that became the issue. I fell twice early in the day, the 2nd time right on my knee. Fast-forward to 19+ hours on the course and I was literally scooting downhill on my butt to not put pressure on the knee.
Did I make the right call, yes, am I happy about it....no. But I didn't explode! (joke for my therapist at next session)
Oh, wow! I have told myself the same - that even if i have to crawl I will finish what I start. I cannot imagine making that call so close to the finish! I don't know if I could control my ego that much. Good for you!
Thank you.... I know "people say" knowing when to stop is a sign of strength too, but it is not something I have ever believed to be okay for myself. I am still unsettled about it, hopefully that will pass. I think the hardest part is that I know every part of me easily had that left, it wasn't like my whole body or mind was done. It was just the left knee. :/
From my perspective over here, stopping when you did looks like the much harder and stronger choice than forcing yourself to finish.
I hope that left knee is okay! How is it healing?
Feels pretty good, true test will be this weekend at my DEKA event since I can still feel it on lunges... Thank you for asking!!!
OoO, good luck!!
I am age 69, I I have completed 60 marathons, 36 marathons have been in my 60's. I am running 75 marathons , my 75th marathon at age 75. I have not decided yet if I will drop dead when I cross the finish line at age 75 , or if I will establish a new goal of 100 marathons by age 100.
I am thinking you will be poised for 100 marathons at age 100:)
So, I ran Tokyo on March 1st. I ended up getting swept at mile 18.1. I had a good training block and about an hour or so after my last long run before taper started getting a sore throat. I ended up sick with some virus. It wasn't the flu or covid but it sucked. The day before we flew to Japan I was at urgent care as my illness was rebounding and getting worse. I went to Tokyo with antibiotics and steroids. I never felt right the entire time we were in Japan, but when race day came around I felt well enough to start. I was running great for about the first 15K and then after that the wheels started coming off. Even without the strict cutoff points I don't think I could have finished the race that day. I finally felt like myself again about 2 weeks after the race. With the trip already paid for, and Tokyo not allowing deferments, I felt I had to go and attempt the race, even though I knew the chances were good that I would not be successful. Had the option to defer been available, I,likely would have quit that race to give it a go in 2027 instead.
Aww man. Glad that you were able to start and feel good for at least part of it, and sorry about the fact you had to push with all plans in progress. Hard part when we travel to big events...
That sounds brutal, Stacy! Boy did you give it your all. I am sorry there wasn't the option to defer. You are one strong person!!!
Thank you Debby. It was rough but I am committed to getting another entry and trying again. On the plus side, I thought Japan was amazing and look forward to a return trip.
Everyone I know that has been to Japan loves it!
This is such an interesting dilemma and I think it's something very personal and unique to an individual. I will try and explain.
As someone that has never been very good at knowing my limits or stopping, I have pushed through extreme pain and illness to do things more often than I can remember. It sounds like bragging and commendable. And often this has been the case. Making it to the end of a trail run with blood running down my leg after a tumble is more about hurt pride. Sometimes, the line between good and bad has been blurry. Having a chest infection and taking antibiotics in order to run an event may not be for everyone (there was no long term damage). Other times, it had been silly and potentially life threatening. That said, I only knew it in hindsight. I had no idea that I was doing 20km training runs with a 36cm blood clot in my leg and multiple clots in my lungs. That I was on the brink of a stroke. Perhaps I should've known that the inability to breathe a couple of times and the pain in my legs was not just delayed recovery from Paris Marathon.
I think we all have our own levels of pain and risk tolerance. Somehow we have to align that with making decisions about whether we continue or not. Personally I have trouble with using the terms "quitting" and "opting out". For most (competitive) people, that in itself gives a dubious message. I prefer thinking of it as equipping ourselves as best we can to make good decisions, particularly when judgement is a little clouded. It also means allowing ourselves to make choices that may not reflect as well on social media.
I ran a marathon where I finished last in 7 hours. I did not quit. I got lost and had to go poop at mile 17, but the last port-a-potty was at mile 15. I started walking, and I passed a guy cutting his grass. He asked me if I was in the marathon, and I asked him if I could use his bathroom. The paramedics asked him to check on me. I started out. I took second in my age group. I have the plaque mounted on my wall. I ran several half marathons while undergoing chemo for lymphoma. I also rode in an ambulance at the end of two of them from dehydration. While undergoing chemo for leukemia, I took my IV pole (which I named George) and walked around the nurse's station at the M D Anderson Cancer Center in Houston. Three times a day, 10 laps, covered 3 miles.
All I can say, Jim, is you can't make this stuff up!!! WOW!!!
I have a lot more marathon stories, like the race I lost to a 91-year-old runner. I finished in 6:40, he finished in 6:20, but he set the US record for 90+ runners, so I didn't feel as bad. Or the marathon I ran in driving rain the whole way at 40°F temperatures. Or the race where the wind chill was 17F the whole way. And the two half marathons where I ended up in the ER due to dehydration, of course, I ran both of those while undergoing chemo for lymphoma.
Personally, I admire the bravery and strength of those who decide to opt out or quit based on a personal decision making process. I quit a very good job about 8 years ago. It was a tough decision but I knew I would be happier going forward. Thank goodness it all worked out and I have never regretted it.
As far as participating in endurance events, I have quit a long distance cross country ski event when I realized that I just was not up to the distance. I had not slept well in the days leading up to the race and I knew I did not have the energy and resolve to finish it and enjoy the process.
On the other hand, I was more than half-way into an ultra race and started to think that I should drop out. However, I was too far in and there was not a good stopping point. So I just kept going. Somehow. Circumstances forced me to continue. I finished the race but it was not a pretty picture.
The great benefit of running is the self empowerment that comes from demonstrating to yourself that you can marshall the resolve to finish. But this means taking on risk, because discomfort and efforts are signals about risk. Therefore, too much grit can produce negative expected outcomes, which is not good. I find it often helps to explicitly define "exit rules," for example, I will quit to avoid serious injury etc., which may well be different for A and B events. I wrote about the concept of risk taking in my piece https://thelongbrownpath.com/2025/11/19/smart-grit-stupid-grit-old-grit-young-grit/
This is super interesting… I’ve been thinking about this a lot recently, because we tend to view this (or get exhorted to) in a binary way, where quitting is always presented negatively. But sometimes we need to be honest with ourselves about what we can actually do, you know? “Sucking the marrow out of life doesn’t mean choking on the bone,” as they say. Will definitely check out the link 👍
For those that don't want to read the whole book Freakonomics did a podcast on the upside of quitting 5 years ago. Stuck with me https://freakonomics.com/podcast/the-upside-of-quitting-3/
You're welcome. I'm an infrequent listener now but in 2021 I was can't miss. Speaking of quitting, I've done that to a lot of podcasts.
Same!
Thanks for sharing this, Ed! I used to listen to their podcast all the time. Will definitely check this out 👍
The title immediately brought to mind this week’s Coconono 250. So many stories of people winning over their doubts. So many other stories, not of quitting, but of pushing yourself to the nth degree and having to surrender. And a woman was the overall winner and course record holder who conquered her doubts and did not quit.
That race WAS amazing; I didn't follow it in real time, but hearing about it since the weekend, it sounds like I missed something pretty special. Rachel Entrekin is just flat-out amazing.
I saw small Facebook updates, I had a sense of how the race was unfolding. But seeing her Running in town and then sprinting the last little bit was incredible. And she was smiling the whole time.
Depends on the why, who I am doing this for, and will there be a sense of satisfaction for me at the end. But first, when I'm thinking of opting out - I consider what i can do different to find that satisfaction. If nothing, then I'm done!
I had a miserable marathon, devastating mentally and physically. Wasn't going to do that ever again. I was done! Then, I took the time to figure out what was missing/wrong. I answered those questions, I registered for another marathon. It was perfect "for me". Will I do another one? Doubt it. I enjoy long runs, just not that long. Now I'm looking forward to a decade of half marathons.
Good for you! I believe half marathons are are one of THE most popular race distances now. I really enjoy 13.1!!
TOTALLY hear you on that, JeanMarie. I've run 3 marathons, and I'm not sure 26.2 miles will ever be in my future again.
this is such a great topic - thanks, Terrell!
I will say first - in running - I also took a bad fall (broken bones, teeth, surgery...), and I have gained so much from *not* quitting.
my running comeback is 2+ years in the making, and it's been hard. but I'm so glad I *didn't* quit.
But your question actually made me think of a work situation:
I was struggling, and it felt so hard. Of course I thought the problem was me (and of course, it was! at least partially..). But I couldn't figure out how to make it better. It was just a bad fit - but I believed I could, through the force of my will, change it.
I couldn't.
I remember that one day, on my way home, I just heard a voice, loud and clear in my head: 'I'm done'. It was the truth.
After that, I felt so calm. Even though I didn't have another job - or any prospects for one! And even though it took a few more weeks - I resigned, and headed out to the unknown.
It was one of the best things I've ever done.
This is such a great example, Cathie. And, I’d bet, an experience most of us go through at some point. I know I did in my first marriage; you describe how I felt perfectly, in fact! It took quitting (for both of us) to see the truth: that this wasn’t working and would *never* work. And we both felt a huge sense of relief after.
Another fabulous example of knowing when to quit!