Redefining Success

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

Just over a week ago, 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 every 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 3:48:13 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 every 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, though, 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 flew 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 stadium, we watched finishers come in which was so 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 often fallen into the trap of drawing a hard line between success and failure.  For a long time, anything short of qualifying for Berlin felt like a failure. But defining success within such a narrow band only reinforced a constant fear of falling short. 

I used to believe that anything less than perfection wasn't enough.  

That mindset is a double-edged sword.  On one hand, it pushed me to show up and do the work.  On the other, it quietly eroded my motivation to pursue ambitious goals-because if the outcome wasn't guaranteed, the risk of failure felt too high.  

On the drive back from Eugene, Patrick asked me if I was disappointed that I didn't PB or qualify for Berlin.  I had narrowly missed the qualifying time of 2:45 in 2024, so it was a fair question.  

Initially, I felt some frustration.  There were hiccups, and I knew the goal was within reach-but far from guaranteed.  Then I caught myself thinking: isn't this the whole point?  

If success were certain, it wouldn't mean as much.  But if failure was guaranteed, there'd be no reason to try.  The value is in that uncertain space between.  

So, I told him the truth: this is what I love about being an athlete.  

Everyone  that toes the start line is carrying something-work, stress, fatigue.  There's no such thing as perfect conditions. I didn't have a perfect race, but I executed the race I had in me that day.  And that has to count for something.  

I'm learning that success doesn't require perfect execution.  It's about continuing to show up-to the start line, to the process, to the discomfort-in pusuit of getting better. 

There were moments before the race, and especially in the latter kilometers, where I wanted to quit.  But I didn't.  And that matters. 

It's a privilege to train.  It's a privilege to race.  It's a privilege to choose my hard.  And it's something I don't take for granted.  

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. 

After that, I'll shift focus back to the marathon and take another shot at a Berlin qualifier at the Toronto Marathon.  

Shortly after, I'll be leaving to travel the world for a year.  More adventures and racing to come!  

P.S. - Progress doesn't come from perfect days-it comes from refusing to stop.  Keep moving forward.  One step at a time is enough.