Running News Daily

How is it possible to become good at something when you’re already far behind and time isn’t on your side?

That was the question pressing against my brain in April 2018. I was four months shy of my 47th birthday and had just completed my first obstacle-course racing competition, something called a Spartan Race. My age put me at the rock bottom of the well-known U-shaped curve of life happiness, bracketed on either side by younger and older adults. I was content enough, but my days were clouded by sameness—the same work routine, same circle of friends, a narrowing of interests skewed to my competencies.

Trying to interrupt my midlife slump with this race was predictable, I suppose. What happened to me after that day was not.

As an unathletic desk jockey glued to my screens, training for the competition seemed like a way to fight back against inertia and a body heading past its prime. Obstacle-course racing combines endurance running in often difficult terrain with military- and hunter-gatherer-styled obstacles: crawling under barbed wire in mud, lugging heavy sandbags up mountains, climbing ropes, scaling walls. You even throw a spear. A version of the sport will be included in the 2028 Olympics as part of the modern pentathlon.

As someone who’d chosen bowling to fulfill my university’s physical education requirement and earned the nickname “Bones” in junior high for her physique, my goal was simple: Finish and don’t die. Then I’d go back to my sitting and screens, with my race T-shirt tucked in the drawer—a sartorial red sports car to don when midlife seemed bleak.

But in the days after crossing the finish line—a middle-aged athletic nobody who fell 10 feet off a rope during the competition into a crumpled heap of humiliation—all I could think about (apart from how much every part of me hurt) was: When can I race again? And how can I get better—a lot better?

I’d taken my first step on the road to mastery—a journey that has been profoundly humbling, and one that I’ll likely never finish. 

I n today’s culture, we celebrate “life hacks” and shortcuts to good health and happiness, whether through supplements, fad diets, five-minute workouts or the short-lived dopamine hit of social media likes. In the workplace, completing goals by setting and achieving KPIs (key performance indicators) often determines our professional value. These expectations can make it difficult to start something new and hard in midlife, when we tend to gravitate toward what we’re already good at and the rewards that come with completing it. 

At first, I certainly fell into this mindset. Closing in on age 50, “mastery” seemed vaguely absurd. Haunting me was the much-discussed 10,000-hour rule popularized by Malcolm Gladwell in his book “Outliers,” where he suggested that it usually takes that much specialized practice to become an expert in a discipline. Even with two hours a day of training—if I could manage that with a full-time job and loads of middle-aged responsibilities—it would take more than 13 years to hit the mastery mark. I’d be 60. Mastery, I felt, was a journey for those who start young.

But my experience and research over the past six years show that I was wrong to see the challenge in such stark, age-bound terms. As I discovered, pursuing something difficult at any age can have profound benefits for health and happiness, even if you never become a master or an expert. 

Becca Levy, a professor of epidemiology at Yale, examined data from one of the country’s most detailed studies of growing older, the Ohio Longitudinal Study on Aging and Retirement, and overlaid it with mortality data. She found that older people with more positive perceptions of aging live 7.5 years longer, on average, than those who are less positive.

One factor believed to fuel this longer lifespan is a “will to live,” which can include pastimes that excite and push us. This doesn’t mean we should be occupied all the time. There’s a lot of creative and mental good to be gained from putting down our smartphones, turning off the TV and letting the mind wander. But chronic boredom and a general lack of purpose have been correlated with anxiety, depression and risk of making mistakes. 

That feeling began creeping into my life before I discovered obstacle-course racing. But humbling myself among younger people in gyms, training nearly every day no matter how busy or tired, having the goal of racing in new places (like the Arabian Desert)—it has ignited in me a renewed will to live. I am constantly learning, relearning and unlearning.

I am also constantly having to be OK looking dumb.

The Greek Stoic philosopher Epictetus mused that if you want to improve at something, you need to “be content to be thought foolish and stupid.” I’ve channeled his wisdom, flailing about on playground monkey bars as impatient children commented on my technique and their amused parents (my peers) watched. Neighbors can see me crawling around my backyard like a wounded animal, performing mobility exercises with stiff middle-aged limbs. 

I have felt the sting of finishing races almost dead last, and I once quit a competition midway because I was too cold. I’d never quit anything in my life until that point. Showing up at my gym the next day with everyone else clad in their finisher T-shirts felt like not getting invited to prom.

On the other hand, it’s very hard to be bored slithering under barbed wire in mud, hurling spears and learning to pull yourself up a 17-foot rope. And with improvement has come a mental shift to believe the file labeled “me” isn’t finished—that I can still add to it. 

These benefits are available on a variety of fronts as we age. The Seattle Longitudinal Study, started in 1956, is one of the most comprehensive research projects on how we develop and change cognitively throughout adulthood. Among its key findings: Some abilities, such as word skills, may increase into our 60s and beyond, particularly for women, while others, such as spatial abilities—think assembling furniture or reading a map—hold up into our 80s for men. That’s a lot of opportunity for later-in-life learning and journeys of mastery.

Here’s the thing about trying to achieve mastery later in life: You may not reach your destination. And I’ve come to believe that’s a good thing. Because unlike the enjoyable activities we pursue that have definitive endings—taking a walk, eating a great meal, going on vacation—training to get good at something hard is ongoing, incomplete. And that’s the beauty of it: There’s always something to look forward to.

Regardless of what you’re trying to master—fly fishing, chess, pickleball—experts say that regular movement of some sort is critical for maintaining the physical and cognitive health you’ll need. Starting a new exercise program, particularly in midlife, when noticeable decline often begins, “can really interrupt the pace of those not-good changes, those negative changes, and turn them into positive changes,” says Steven Austad, senior scientific director for the American Federation for Aging Research. New research, he adds, shows “physical activity is one of the best ways to avoid later-life dementia.”

Six years have passed since my first race. After some 4,000 hours of practice, I’ve advanced on the five-stage “Dreyfus model” of skill acquisition from “novice” to “advanced beginner” to “competence.” I now race competitively in my age group and have under my belt 19 top-three podium finishes and two world championship competitions. Some days, when everything is clicking, I may even touch the fourth stage of proficiency.

It’s a far cry from childhood, when I cowered behind my best friend during dodgeball and warmed my school’s bench in soccer games. Longevity is never guaranteed, but I’ve made strides to keep functioning independently as I age—lifting my suitcase into the airplane’s overhead bin, hiking three miles in snow if our car breaks down. I’m also more confident off the racecourse. Not long ago, I took a job with a tech start-up where I’m one of the oldest employees. Younger workers teach me about AI; I took a crew of them on their first Spartan Race.

Admittedly, I’m still coming to peace with the idea that I’ll never reach the final stage of “expert” at this sport I now love. I’ve met people who are experts: They possess natural talent I don’t, or have spent time training that I probably can’t at this point. There remain obstacles I fail during races more than I’d like; now that I’m 52 years old, I don’t know if that will change. 

These reminders of my limitations and mortality are what’s been most humbling about the experience. But “never finished” may be the best medicine when life seems to be making a turn toward endings. I interviewed a woman in her 80s nicknamed “Muddy Mildred” who ran obstacle-course races. How far can I get with the time that is left to me?

1. Intrinsic motivation gets you farther than extrinsic motivation. Motivation from external factors—money, a promotion, a medal—can be short-lived. “I can probably get someone up from the couch to run a 10K if I give them enough money,” says Chad Stecher, a behavioral health economist and assistant professor at Arizona State University. “But after that 10K, unless I provide additional incentives or support, their physical activity won’t persist.”

Instead, look for a pursuit where you are motivated to engage because of personal satisfaction or a deeper drive. One place to start: childhood. What did you want to be or do when you grew up, but it hasn’t yet happened? My experience of being a gawky kid still drives me.

2. Cultivate a “growth mindset.” Believing your success is tied more to hard work than innate talent is critical on the mastery journey. The well-known Stanford University psychologist Carol Dweck talks about one Chicago school’s unorthodox but effective grading protocol, where instead of a failing grade, students would get a “Not Yet.”

You’re not going to become a good diver without landing a lot of belly-flops, or a competent fly-fisherman without the line occasionally getting wrapped up in a tree. It doesn’t mean you won’t get there; it just means you haven’t gotten there yet.

3. Locate edges and equalizers. Crystallized intelligence—your stored-up body of wisdom—can make age a secret weapon. The older you are, the more you’ve tried, failed, succeeded and learned. Draw from that bank. I can’t rely on a 25-year-old body to perform well, so I’ve turned to information: intel on gear, clothing, weather, hydration, terrain, sleep.

“When you’re older, you can see the bigger picture more than you could when you were 17,” says Alex Hutchinson, bestselling author of the book “Endure.” “It’s really easy to get excited about big goals, but to actually achieve them takes patience to take care of details, patience to stay on track when obstacles arise.”

4. Prioritize what’s essential. You can’t hack your way to mastery. It takes time and the “disciplined pursuit of less,” as Greg McKeown explains in his book “Essentialism.”

To include obstacle-course racing in an already full life, I trimmed my Instagram feed to mainly follow accounts helping me learn about the sport. After analyzing how much of my workday was spent in inefficient, hour-long, weekly one-on-one meetings, I cut most of them back to 25 minutes and set clear agendas. I declined all social invitations that weren’t from my closest friends and stepped away from many boards I served on. With every “no,” I got back a few more hours to devote to this new journey.

5. The mastery journey can be never-ending. And that’s fine. Finishing only that first race would have given me short-lived bragging rights and an awesome social media photo. But then it would have been over—extinguishing a source of meaning in my life.

It wasn’t until I firmly entered the realm of “never finished” that I realized how electrifying it could be. Which sure feels like a far cry from being stuck at the bottom of a U curve.

Jakob Ingebrigtsen brought his remarkable 2026 season to a fitting close on home soil, winning the men’s street 1500m at the inaugural Runfest Norway in Sandnes on Friday.

Competing in front of an enthusiastic hometown crowd, the Olympic and world champion took control of the race from the early stages and maintained his authority through the finish, stopping the clock at 3:40.7.

Andreas Fjeld Halvorsen followed in second in 3:43.3, while Sigurd Tveit completed the podium in 3:47.8.

The unusual street race added another dimension to the occasion, with 273 runners taking part on the same road and sharing the course with one of Norway’s most accomplished distance runners. For the recreational participants, it offered a rare opportunity to compete alongside Ingebrigtsen in an event that brought elite athletics and mass participation together.

The victory also provided a fitting final chapter to a season that began with significant uncertainty for Ingebrigtsen. After undergoing major Achilles surgery in February, the Norwegian was forced to miss a substantial portion of the summer campaign as he worked his way back to full fitness.

His return, however, quickly developed into another championship-winning chapter. In Birmingham, Ingebrigtsen captured European 5,000m gold before adding another major title at the inaugural World Athletics Ultimate Championship in Budapest, where he won the 5,000m.

Those performances transformed what could have been a disrupted season into another year defined by championship success and a determined return to the highest level.

Now, with the Sandnes victory added to his 2026 record, Ingebrigtsen closes the year exactly where it began in spirit — overcoming adversity, rebuilding his form and once again competing at the front.

From Achilles surgery in February to major championship victories and finally a 1500m win before his hometown crowd, the Norwegian has given his 2026 season a memorable final scene.

Olympic 100m hurdles champion Masai Russell has announced her engagement to longtime partner Robert “Robbie” Springfield, adding a major personal milestone to the remarkable journey of one of America’s leading track and field stars.

Russell shared the news with her followers, revealing that Springfield had proposed and that she had accepted. Reflecting on their relationship, the Olympic champion described him as her best friend and expressed her excitement about spending the rest of her life with him.

The couple’s relationship dates back to their college years at the University of Kentucky, where both were student-athletes and competed in track and field. Russell established herself as a standout hurdler, while Springfield competed in the long jump, giving them a shared understanding of the demands, sacrifices and pressures that come with pursuing success in athletics.

Springfield has since transitioned from competition into coaching. A former collegiate long jumper, he is now part of the coaching staff at Morehead State University, where he works with the programme’s sprinters and jumpers.

Their relationship has developed alongside Russell’s rise to the top of the sport. The defining moment of her career came at the Paris 2024 Olympic Games, where she captured gold in the women’s 100m hurdles, securing her place among the sport’s Olympic champions.

Away from competition, Springfield has remained a familiar part of Russell’s journey, sharing in the demanding periods of training and competition that accompanied her pursuit of Olympic success. Their connection has consequently grown from a college athletics relationship into a long-term partnership.

The engagement now marks another significant chapter for Russell, this time away from the track. After reaching the pinnacle of her sporting career in Paris, the 100m hurdles champion is beginning a new phase of her personal life alongside a partner who has been part of her journey since their university days.

From competing on the same collegiate stage to building a future together, Russell and Springfield’s story has evolved alongside two careers shaped by track and field. The Olympic champion will now balance this new personal chapter with her continuing ambitions in athletics

The women’s race at the 2026 TCS Amsterdam Marathon is shaping up to be one of the most competitive editions in recent years, with a deep international field set to take on the fast Dutch course on Sunday, October 18.

At the centre of the contest will be four Ethiopian athletes who have already broken the 2:20 barrier, creating the prospect of a fascinating battle for victory and a possible assault on the course record of 2:16:52.

Defending champion Aynalem Desta will return to Amsterdam looking to retain her title after producing the biggest performance of her career at last year’s 50th edition. Desta won in a personal best of 2:17:37, establishing herself among the leading marathoners in the field and setting the benchmark for this year’s contenders.

Standing in her way will be fellow Ethiopian Meseret Belete Tola, a former Amsterdam champion who knows exactly what it takes to succeed on the course. Belete Tola captured the 2023 edition in 2:18:21, and her return adds another layer of experience and proven quality to an already formidable lineup.

The field also includes Mestawut Fikir Truneh, who arrives with an impressive marathon pedigree. Truneh finished runner-up at the 2024 Berlin Marathon in 2:18:48, demonstrating her ability to compete at the highest level on one of the world's major marathon stages.

Completing the quartet of sub-2:20 Ethiopians is Buze Diriba, whose personal best of 2:19:34 places her firmly among the leading contenders. With four athletes possessing credentials below 2:20, the race is likely to develop into a tightly contested battle from the opening kilometres.

The depth extends well beyond the leading quartet. Desi Jisa Mokonin, representing Bahrain, Yeshi Kalayu Chekole of Ethiopia and Nazret Weldu Gebrehiwet of Eritrea have all established themselves as serious marathon competitors with performances approaching the 2:20 mark.

Another major name to watch is Abeba Aregawi, the former 1500m world champion representing Sweden. Aregawi has successfully transferred her talents to the marathon and made headlines earlier this year by setting a Swedish national record of 2:23:12 on her debut. Her presence adds another intriguing dimension to an already high-quality field.

Amsterdam’s marathon course has consistently provided an opportunity for elite athletes to produce fast times, and this year’s women’s lineup has the depth to turn the race into a genuine test of both championship racing and outright speed.

With four athletes already inside 2:20, two former Amsterdam champions returning to the start line and several other accomplished marathoners ready to challenge them, the battle is expected to remain open deep into the race.

The ultimate target will be the Amsterdam women’s course record of 2:16:52. Whether the leading contenders can threaten that mark remains to be seen, but the quality assembled for October 18 ensures that the record will be firmly in the spotlight when the race reaches its spectacular finish inside the Olympic Stadium.

The 2026 Valencia Half Marathon is shaping up to be a thrilling contest of speed, endurance and tactical brilliance, with some of the world’s finest road runners set to converge in Spain on October 25.

Kenya’s Daniel Ebenyo and Alex Matata will be among the leading contenders, facing a formidable Ethiopian challenge spearheaded by Jemal Yimer and Tadese Worku. The field also features Rodrigue Kwizera, who boasts the fastest personal best among the leading entrants at 58:16.

Ebenyo arrives with a personal best of 59:04, placing him firmly among the athletes capable of sustaining a demanding pace over the 21.1-kilometre distance. Matata, who owns a 59:11 best, adds further Kenyan strength, while Andrea Kiptoo brings another sub-60-minute credential to the race.

Yimer has already established himself as one of the fastest athletes in the field with a 58:33 personal best, while Worku has clocked 58:35. Kenya’s Owen Korir, with a best of 58:58, further underlines the remarkable depth of the men's lineup.

Valencia Half Marathon 2026 Entries

1. Rodrigue Kwizera (Spain) — 58:16

2. Jemal Yimer (Ethiopia) — 58:33

3. Tadese Worku (Ethiopia) — 58:35

4. Owen Korir (Kenya) — 58:58

5. Daniel Ebenyo (Kenya) — 59:04

6. Alex Matata (Kenya) — 59:11

7. Andrea Kiptoo (Kenya) — 59:11

8. Thierry Ndikumwenayo (Spain) — 59:42

9. Said Mechaal (Spain) — 1:00:24

10. Adel Mechaal (Spain) — 1:02:30

Kwizera, who finished second in Valencia last year, leads the field on paper and will be seeking another standout performance on the famously fast Valencia course. With several athletes carrying sub-60-minute credentials, the race has the ingredients for an aggressive battle from the opening kilometres.

Beyond the headline names, the men’s field is deep and highly competitive, bringing together a strong collection of experienced international athletes with proven ability over the half-marathon distance. With so much quality packed into the lineup, the race promises an intriguing battle in which tactics, endurance, positioning and finishing speed could all play a crucial role in determining the eventual champion.

Yet personal bests will count for little once the gun goes off. The title could ultimately be decided by patience, positioning and the ability to respond when the pace begins to rise in the closing stages. Every surge, every tactical move and every second saved could prove decisive on the road to the finish.

With Kenya, Ethiopia and Spain represented by athletes of exceptional quality, Valencia promises a high-octane men's showdown in which the leaders are likely to be separated by only a handful of seconds. The final kilometres could provide the defining moments of a race packed with speed, ambition and anticipation.

On October 25, the question will be simple: who has the strength to command the streets of Valencia and claim the coveted half-marathon crown?

 

April 19, 1982. The Boston Marathon unfolded under unusually warm, sunny conditions, and by the closing stages, the race had become a private battle between two very different American runners: Alberto Salazar, already one of the biggest names in distance running, and Dick Beardsley, the Minnesota runner who had emerged as a serious marathon contender.

For roughly nine miles, from the Newton Hills toward the finish, Beardsley did much of the leading, with Salazar tucked close behind. Neither man could shake the other. They ran deep into Boston locked together, trading surges and refusing to surrender an inch as the crowds along the course grew louder.

Salazar finally made his decisive move with less than a mile remaining. He opened a small gap, but Beardsley refused to disappear. The Minnesota runner chased him through the final streets, closing again as they approached the finish.

Then came the final sprint.

Salazar held his form and reached the finish first in 2:08:52, with Beardsley only two seconds behind in 2:08:54. It was an extraordinary result: both men broke 2:09 in the same Boston Marathon, and both shattered the previous course record.

The race became known as the “Duel in the Sun,” and it remains one of the most celebrated head-to-head battles in Boston Marathon history. Beardsley had not won, but his performance established him as one of America's elite marathoners.

For Salazar, however, victory came at an enormous physical cost. Immediately after crossing the finish line, he collapsed and required emergency treatment, including several litres of intravenous saline. The combination of heat, dehydration and an all-out effort had pushed his body to the limit.

Salazar's marathon career would never again produce quite the same kind of performance. His celebrated 1981 New York City Marathon victory had produced what was initially considered a world record, although the course was later found to be short. His Boston triumph therefore became one of the defining victories of his career.

Beardsley's story would take an even more difficult turn. Injuries disrupted his career, and after returning to the highest level, he suffered a devastating farm accident in 1989. Further accidents, surgeries and severe physical pain followed, eventually leading to a long battle with painkiller addiction.

He eventually overcame that struggle and transformed the darkest chapters of his life into a story of recovery, resilience and redemption.

That is what makes the 1982 Boston Marathon more than a two-second victory.

For one extraordinary afternoon, Salazar and Beardsley produced a marathon duel in which neither man was willing to give way. One crossed the finish line first. The other finished only two seconds behind him.

Two seconds separated them at Boston. Decades later, their legendary duel remains one of the greatest chapters in marathon history.