Reflections on Running with Purpose & Exploring Your Edges

This past June, I participated in two endurance events just two weeks apart that challenged me in very different ways: the Solgorithm Marathon Monk Ultramarathon 27-mile race and the Michael J. Fox Foundation Virtual 10K (6.2 miles) Run/Walk for Parkinson’s Research.

After completing my first ever marathon last fall with an outcome that wasn’t what I’d hoped for, I have committed to pushing myself more this year and working harder to properly prepare my body and mind for future challenges. With more road races this coming fall 2026 (Historic Hillsborough Half Marathon, Bull City Half) and winter 2027 (Every Woman’s Marathon in NOLA), I’ve been focused on training and intentionally seeking out experiences that make me uncomfortable. These two events this June certainly fit into this framework, with the bonus components of how philosophical and bigger-than-me the themes of these events were.

Above: Me at my first ever marathon, the Richmond Marathon, fall 2025

The Marathon Monk Ultramarathon was a very grassroots, small-scale ultra race event with fewer than 20 participants who chose to run 27, 54, or 108 laps around a closed 1-mile loop on a horse farm in Hillsborough owned by Gavin, who also owns Sauna House Durham. Those numbers have significance in the Buddhist tradition. This race event was then followed by an evening of mindfulness exploration that was called The Solgorithm and included participation from 50+ other folks in the community who didn’t run all day but were open to learning and experiencing things.

During the Solgorithm, we were invited to listen to Endo Mitsunaga (also known as Mitsunaga Dai-Ajari), the Marathon Monk, speak about his experience completing the Kaihogyo, one of the most physically and mentally grueling feats ever completed by a human (only 51 have done it across centuries of time, and he is #50). Then we were invited to listen to former US Marine Akshay Nanavati speak about his solo trek attempt from coast to coast of Antarctica and his continued quest to search for and experience his own edges. Following these two speakers, we experienced guided meditations, sound baths, sunset yoga, a farm to table dinner, and a closing ceremony led by the Dai-Ajari. 

This unique event emphasized pilgrimage rather than competition, reminding all of us participants that we each were traveling our own path or purpose for participating, while sharing a common experience. As the race director and host Gavin said in his recap email, "While each participant walked their own path, we all shared in a common pilgrimage." For me, completing 27 1-mile laps over 8 hours became as much a mental and spiritual exercise as a physical one, if not more.

I should also mention that this was a no-phones event. So, human connection and tech disconnection was a foundation for the entire day. In fact, one main feature of the ultramarathon event was that, unlike a normal race event where runners wear bibs with chip timers and a clock timer, we all began the event with a bowl of Mala beads equivalent to the number of laps we were to complete. Upon completion of each lap, we removed a bead, until the bowl was empty. When we finished the laps, a bell rang for us and everyone cheered.

A bowl of everyone's Mala beads at the end (photo credit: Gavin)

In terms of the run itself, I executed my pace/fuel/hydration/rest plan perfectly and finished almost exactly at the time I wanted to (just under it, in fact). Our race director suggested we all try to stay in Zone 2 (heart rate) for the race, to stay mentally present in honor of the tradition of the Kaihogyo. Given that information, and based on when I wanted to start so I finished in time, I had planned for up to an hour total of stops at my aid station to fuel, rest, get out of the sun, and change clothes/shoes if needed.

I ended up averaging 17 min per mile for 27 miles staying in Zone 2 with walk/jog intervals for 95% of the race. The experience definitely challenged me to accept and work through discomfort rather than escape it. The only “issues” were that a segment of the 1 mile loop was in the sun, making it VERY hot by afternoon, and a segment of the trail was not trail but rather an inclined gravel driveway, which is challenging to run on. I had to switch from my trail runners to my road running shoes after mile 12 due to developing some bad heel blistering from the added friction of scrambling on gravel uphill. So, aside from the blisters being really bad by the end, I did great and felt mostly great the next day, aside from the expected fatigue and mentally-dead-inside feelings that come after a marathon. I felt like I could have done a shake-out run the following day if I didn't have blisters.

One of the event's most powerful messages was that there were no winners or losers, just a handful of very unique people exploring their limits. I was able to share a few laps with most of the other participants at various times, exchanging life stories along the way, and learning each participant’s “why.” One participant chose to complete 108 miles in complete silence, which was remarkable to witness. One other participant had never done any race events before in her life, and was simply there to see what she could do.

Around mile 14, I had a real solid mental shift. I caught myself saying to myself, "I don't want to do this!" But I realized that this wasn't true! I actually DID want to do it - had literally signed myself up for it - but I was feeling discomfort and was not staying present. I was letting myself get distracted and do negative self talk. Once I realized this, I had a huge mental shift and was able to carry on the rest of the miles with relative mental ease. It also helped that there were in total only a few of us out there running, and 5 of those guys had been running since Friday, attempting 108 miles! Hard to quit when you're running alongside someone who is on mile 83 and still smiling...

Gifts from the Dai-Ajari Sama

Anyone who’s done an endurance event has probably had a moment like this, too. This is what people are talking about when they say that this sort of event tests your mental fortitude beyond the physical. Anytime someone asks me why I do these sorts of races or events, THIS is my why. I believe it’s so important to have experiences that push you to your edges and make you go through hardships so you learn about yourself. It’s okay to be uncomfortable sometimes, especially when it’s on your own terms. This might make going through unavoidable life hardships a tiny bit easier in the future (like Parkinson’s Disease!). 

The Marathon Monk himself did a few laps throughout the day, and then as I mentioned, he spoke to the group later in the evening. He closed the night out with a blessing ceremony complete with throat chanting and blessing each of us. The other guest speaker, Askhay Nanavati, very kindly gave me a copy of his first book, Fearvana. Both men are truly incredible humans from both a psychological, emotional, and physical POV. Also both have great senses of humor.

A theme that kept coming up with the speakers and also among us runners was the concept of rhythm. Looping a 1 mile course repeatedly provided a natural rhythm to the day, and we talked about the rhythm of breathing and steady pacing and Zone 2 effort. One delightful surprise was that we ran past some horse pastures with horses turned out all day to graze. Despite the loop/route staying the same every single lap, the horses moved around, and it was a fun way to stay present to notice where they moved and observe what they were doing. They were equally curious about us, as you can imagine.

No phones means very few photos... but here's a friendly barn cat who got many pets all day long

There was also a lot of talk about "the edge" and pushing ourselves to understand our physical/emotional edges so we can get past the fears or self inflicted beliefs or whatever else we might have going on inside ourselves and see what else is possible. Interesting, too, that the Dai-Ajari suffered from severe asthma as a kid, and Akshay had a blood disorder and other health issues which were thought to make physical activity harder than normal for him. Despite these barriers, both men found ways through this, certainly pushing to their edges over and over again.

Someone asked the monk how he balanced the dichotomy of the personal challenge of the Kaihogyo with the duties he had to serve his village of monks and citizens. He said that he didn't even see it as a thing to balance - that first it starts with getting/molding your own "form" (I'm curious what the Japanese word is, as he had a translator) from the very start, in the way that it must be, so you can first focus on yourself, and in doing so, you expand that to include helping/focusing on others. Not a balance but rather an everythingness with a solid base form. 

Guided sound bath meditation (photo credit: Gavin)

Following the ultramarathon portion was the actual Solgorithm event, including the two guest speakers I mentioned, and then three breakout sessions - binaural beats guided meditation plus in-person sound bath with chimes/singing bowls; a sound bath played while we floated on rafts in a swimming pool; and sunset slow flow yoga by the pond; then there was a vegetarian farm to table dinner with produce from local farms in Hillsborough. After already spending all day moving, I found myself casually observing that I was in fact experiencing MORE endurance efforts by staying present for all of these evening events, an 18 hour day for me! But it wasn't unpleasant. In fact, I believe the yoga session helped me not be as physically sore the next day. As an added bonus, my friend Matt was also in attendance at the Solgorithm event and it was such a comfort and joy to share the experience with him and have a friend there with me. 

This sense of community from start to finish transformed an individual challenge into a shared experience of growth. I may never see most of these people again, or do an event quite like this again, but I’ll never forget it!

Thumbs up after completing the 10K!

Now, for event #2… The Michael J Fox Foundation’s Virtual 10K Run/Walk event, which I completed just 2 weeks after the Marathon Monk Ultra race, gave my miles a purpose way beyond personal accomplishment. Running in support of Parkinson's research reminded me that temporary discomfort is fundamentally different from living with a chronic disease. It became an opportunity to reflect on the resilience demonstrated daily by people living with Parkinson's. This event was virtual, meaning anyone participating could choose exactly when and where they would run, as long as it was completed on the weekend of the event. I chose to trail run on the partly shady Historic Occonneechee Speedway loop in Hillsborough for my run.

As I looped around and around the speedway during the mid-day heat, stopping each lap to hydrate and cool off, I reflected on the fact that people with Parkinson’s wouldn’t be as easily able to complete this type of effort, and this kept me focused on my why. I observed that most people arriving at the speedway had parked, come down and around the loop once, and then returned to their cars, while I remained out there a while longer, completing 8+ loops.

Any thoughts of jealousy that those folks were done with their workout before I was quickly dissipated as I reminded myself why I was out there! It’s amazing how the mind can turn on us like that, but if we have the tools to redirect our mental energy, we can stay focused. Plus, I couldn’t help but recall moments from the Marathon Monk Ultra just weeks prior, which helped me stay present. I also thought constantly about my client who has PD as well as a few family members and those of others I know who have PD or have passed away from complications of PD. In fact, just prior to starting the run, I had stopped by my client’s home to get a few pre-run hugs and some photos together and show her that I was running for her. 

With Sue, in our MJFF blue and orange :)

Thanks to the generosity of friends, family, and colleagues, I raised $1,575 for the Michael J. Fox Foundation leading up to my 10K run. Each donation reminded me of my supportive community and that there are a lot of people who are impacted by Parkinson’s and want to see a cure! Thank you so much to everyone who donated!

Neither event allowed me to experience what it is truly like to live with Parkinson's, to complete the full Kaihogyo, to cross Antarctica solo, or to fully understand another person's hardships. But together, they reminded me that choosing meaningful challenges can deepen our appreciation for the resilience of others, expand our understanding of our own capacities, and inspire us to use our abilities in service of something greater than ourselves.

I will conclude by also making sure to say this: Being able to purchase entry and participate in races, not to mention all the shoes, gear, nutrition, and time it takes, is a PRIVILEGE. I am often reflecting on the privilege of fitness opportunities, and so whenever there’s a way to find deeper connections and meaning within the racing world, I’ll embrace it. That perspective these two events offered continues to shape how I think about endurance, gratitude, community, and what it means to keep moving forward.

What’s next for me? We’ll see...