Redefining Success

I missed my personal best by one minute—and somehow walked away more satisfied than when I set it.

Last weekend, I completed the Eugene Marathon, my ninth full marathon in a time of 2:46:10. I missed my previous personal best (2:45:16, set at the 2024 Portland Marathon) by roughly a minute.

Based on my previous marathon performances progress isn't linear.

That's the beauty of doing hard things.

Here’s how that progression has looked:

• 2009 BMO Marathon - 3:20:12

• 2010 BMO Marathon - 3:18:53

• 2014 BMO Marathon - 2:57:26

• 2016 BMO Marathon - 3:02:36

• 2017 BMO Marathon - 2:52:53

• 2018 Seattle Rock N' Roll Marathon - 2:51:20

• 2024 BMO Marathon - 2:52:50

• 2024 Portland Marathon - 2:45:16

• 2026 Eugene Marathon - 2:46:10

We train for months—sometimes years—hoping all the pieces (nutrition, pacing, mindset, recovery) fall into place on race day.

But sometimes, they don’t.

As I’ve become a more seasoned athlete, I’ve changed how I measure success.  Race day isn’t the only thing that matters anymore. What matters is whether I can honestly say I gave everything I had throughout the process.

It’s a game of percentages—not perfection.

Not ever race will be a personal best. 

The Eugene Marathon

I'm lucky to have friends and family who indulge my pursuit of hard things.

I invited my sister, brother-in-law, and training partner to race in Eugene, and they agreed without much hesitation. Tiffany and Bryan previously raced with me in Portland and enjoyed the experience of travelling for a race. I met Patrick at The Fraser Street Run Club a few years ago and ever since, we've trained on and off for years but haven't really had the opportunity to race side by side.

Patrick and I run at similar paces, and we saw this as a shot at pushing each other toward a Berlin qualifier. At the same time, I was helping Tiffany improve on her 3:59:58 marathon, while Bryan was aiming to beat his 4:24 PB.

This race meant something to us all. 

My plan was to use Eugene as a build toward Ironman Nice two months later. 

In hindsight, stacking two big goals that close together wasn't the best call. 

Training was going well - until four weeks out, when I developed a nagging hip flexor injury during a long run.  The pain persisted and worsened after each session.  

It started to take a toll mentally. 

Mileage dropped. Confidence dropped with it. 

It felt like ever step forward in fitness came with a step back in health. 

A week before the race, I wasn't sure I should start. 

On the drive down, Patrick and I talked strategy - but I had doubts.  His training had been building while mine had been unraveling.  

By the time we met Tiffany and Bryan, thought, something shifted.  

They were relaxed. Excited. Just happy to be there.  

None of us are paid to do this - this was a good reminder. 

This is a privilege-to have the time, health and resources to chase something like this.  A PB or qualification is just one part of the experience.  

I’m not sure if it was adrenaline, caffeine, or a mindset shift—but when the race stated, the pain disppeared.  

Patrick and I planned to start the race together conservatively. 

We didn't. 

We flex through the first few kilometers.  He pulled ahead after 5K, and I let him go-but kept him in sight.  Over the next 25K, I slowly worked my way back.  When I caught him, his calf was cramping.

I told him to hang on and we could finish together.  

With 7K to go, the lack of training caught up to me.  My quads started to cramp and my pace started to slip. 

I did the math.  

It was going to be close.  

In the final kilometer, we gave everything we had-but we knew we'd missed it.  

By... a minute.  

I was disappointed-but also proud. 

We left everything out there.    

Back in the statdium, we watched finishers come in. 

It was inspiring.

I was so proud of Tiffany and Bryan for smashing their PBs with 3:41:16 and 3:53:57, respectively.

Rethinking what achievement and success means to me

As someone who is a recovering 'anxious overachiever', I have frequently fallen into the trap of drawing a line in the sand to indicate what is considered a success or failure. In the past, I would have chastised myself for anything short of achieving my goal of qualifying for Berlin, but defining success within such a narrow band only perpetuated the fear of failure. I once believed that anything but perfection was insufficient. Being an anxious overachiever is a double edged sword that can be wielded to cut through excuses to avoid the discomfort of putting in the work to achieve a goal, but at the same time destroy the motivation to pursue challenging aspirations.

During the road trip back from Eugene, Patrick had asked me if I was disappointed that I didn't get a PB or qualify for Berlin. Having narrowly missed the Berlin Marathon qualification time of two hours and forty-five minutes in 2024, I contemplated the question before responding.  Initially, I was a bit frustrated that there were hiccups along the way.  I knew that qualifying for Berlin was and remains within my grasp, but given the circumstances, it was certainly not a given.  I asked myself, "Isn't this the reason we do these things"?  If I knew that I could always set a new PB or complete the next challenge, then I believe it would take away from the feeling of accomplishment, but if I knew that I would fail, then what would be the point of trying? 

I responded to Patrick by telling him that this is what I love about being an athlete.  Each person who laces up their shoes has their own commitments (i.e. families, work, hobbies, etc) and challenges which can inhibit their perfect performance.  I didn't have the perfect performance on race day, but I executed the race I had within me and that's all I can really ask for.  As I continue to overcome being an anxious achiever, I need to remind myself that I don't need to have the absolute perfect execution.  The goal should be to just keep stepping up to the start line each day in the pursuit of getting better.  There were so many times prior to the race and towards the latter kilometers of the race where I wanted to throw in the towel, but I didn't.  It's a gift to be able to train and race as a hobby and I'm fortunate that I can continue looking forward to the next challenge. 

What's Next...

Bryan and I will be heading to France in less than two months to compete in Ironman Nice. The course is widely regarded as one of the most beautiful yet challenging courses in the world, which features a Mediterranean swim, a 2,500m elevation bike ride through the mountainous Alpes-Maritimes, and run along the iconic Promenade des Anglais.  To cap off the year, I'm going to refocus on marathon training and once again try for a Berlin Qualifier at the Toronto Marathon.  Shortly after, I'll be leaving for a year to travel the world again!