187. Race, Marriage & Mindset Q&A

Tessa opens by asking Marcus why he willingly put his body through a 100-mile race without a major financial reward. Marcus says he had not even known people ran 100 miles—much less 200- and 300-mile races—until a friend told him about them. At the time, he was running only three or four miles once or twice a week to prepare for Ragnar, a relay totaling about 15.5 miles across three segments. His reaction was that if someone else could do something, it must be possible, and he wanted to find out whether he still had “that dog in me.” He deliberately chose a goal that was far beyond his current ability. He did not want something that would be barely out of reach after a year of training; he wanted something that would still feel impossible even after preparing for a full year. Tessa says the size of the goal created serious consequences for skipping training and forced both of them out of their comfort zones. Marcus connects the challenge to his athletic background: he had excelled in sports and still occasionally saw flashes of his old ability, such as winning a home-run derby, but he had never tested himself as a distance runner. Although he had been the fastest child in his school at sprinting, his longest continuous run before beginning this project was only seven miles. He hired a coach, completed pre-testing, and approached the preparation as seriously as possible from his strength-and-conditioning background.

Marcus explains that his coach started with his actual weekly mileage—roughly 13 to 17 miles—and gradually built him to about 25 miles per week, then 30 to 35 miles during the first three months. Near the end of training, his baseline reached approximately 45 to 50 miles per week. Because the races were mountain ultras rather than road races, mileage was only part of the preparation. He also had to accumulate elevation, reaching about 4,000 feet of climbing in an ordinary week and as much as 7,500 feet during larger weeks. The races he selected were among the hardest at their distances because of elevation, steep climbs, slick rocks, boulders, and difficult terrain. Marcus says mountain running requires a different strategy from running 100 miles on a road. Their location helped because they had nearby trails and high elevation, although winter conditions made training more complicated. Tessa says the training affected much more than Marcus’s running. Their sleep, hydration, nutrition, mental input, and conversations all became more deliberate. Signing up for a goal with unavoidable consequences made it easier for both of them to reset habits that had previously been displaced by comfort and convenience. Marcus’s most frustrating training experience was trying to maintain those commitments while traveling. In Alaska, he ran 19 miles in circles in a parking lot while carrying bear spray because a teenage boy had been attacked by a bear during a group run the week before. He also disliked how slowly his Garmin watch reflected improvement through metrics such as hill score, endurance score, and predicted 5K time.

Marcus says he trained analytically, using a heart-rate monitor to stay within the zones prescribed by his coach. This often conflicted with how the effort felt. He might be climbing a hill and perceive the effort as only two or four out of ten, while his heart rate had reached 170 even though the prescribed range was 145 to 150. The correct response was to slow down, even when he wanted to chase a faster time. Tessa admits that she repeatedly wanted to prioritize time instead of heart rate, while Marcus emphasizes that accepting these short-term inconveniences is what builds long-term success. The couple also discusses how Marcus made time for training while being a husband, father of four, and business owner. Marcus says anything important requires deliberate time, and Tessa actively encouraged him to take that time rather than feel guilty for being away from the family. He asked when it would be most convenient to train, rather than treating his runs as automatically more important than her responsibilities. If she was working in the office from nine to two, he would fit in a lift or run around that schedule; he also trained before the children woke up when necessary. Their arrangement depended on mutual trust. Tessa says she previously complained, guilted Marcus, or tried to control him, which made it easier for him to blame outside circumstances. During this training year, she wanted him to own both the commitment and the outcome. Marcus, in turn, trusted her to handle the children and the house when he said he needed several hours to train.

Problems began before race day. Marcus felt pain in his knee about a week before the race and contacted his coach, who told him to back off because being healthy on race day mattered most. Marcus altered or skipped much of the final two weeks of his taper. By race morning the knee was almost better, but he could still feel it, which he regarded as a warning sign. He started anyway and moved comfortably for roughly the first 20 miles, then realized the knee was going to be a serious problem. The pain worsened from around mile 19 through mile 71. His right knee hurt particularly badly on descents, while the tendons on his left foot that lift the foot hurt on climbs. He and Tessa walked about 15 miles together, adding small amounts of jogging on flatter sections, but Marcus was in severe pain and a negative mental state. At mile 71, he was facing a 3,000-foot climb and moving at approximately a 22-minute pace, with another 30 miles remaining. He calculated that finishing might require another 10 or 11 hours, mostly walking. At the aid station, his brother barely touched the painful foot before Marcus nearly lashed out from the pain. Marcus tried to continue with trekking poles for about a mile, but he could not balance properly because of the foot. He concluded that the knee, foot, and overall pain were too severe to sustain for the remaining distance and stopped. He turned in his race number and recorded a DNF—did not finish—after reaching 71 miles.

Tessa asks how Marcus processed failing to finish after a year of training, publicly discussing the goal, and imagining the belt buckle and lottery stones that would come with completing the race. Marcus says the disappointment was actually harder before the race, when he was imagining all the ways the knee injury might prevent him from starting or finishing. Once he had pushed through 71 miles, including about 50 miles of pain through the night, his mindset had changed. He was proud that he had subjected himself to the hardest physical experience of his life. He says he could still feel cardiovascularly capable of running 100 miles, but the knee and foot injuries made continuing unsafe and unrealistic. He suspects that tying his shoes too tightly may have contributed to the foot problem, demonstrating how a small detail could create a major issue. Rather than treating the DNF as a reason to abandon the goal, he focused on the fact that no one else in their bloodline had run or walked 71 miles in a day. Support from Tessa, his family, and people on social media helped him recognize the achievement, including messages from people who had experienced similar setbacks. Marcus says the result has already shaped his next plan. He will use another year to address the weaknesses that hurt, build more experience, and return to the same 100-mile race in 2027 because he refuses to let it beat him. He plans a 60-mile race in April, the difficult Speedgoat 50K in July, and a second attempt at the Kodiak 100-mile race in October. He also hopes the experience teaches their children that failure is acceptable when someone gives a goal everything they have.

Marcus says the children have watched him train, climb mountains, and finish difficult races without caring about his times. Their reaction is that their dad did something “freaking cool.” Their two oldest children, ages eight and six, have already completed their first 5K and are asking about a 10K and returning to the trail. Tessa argues that parenting is largely about example: telling children to do what is right when it is hard has more force when the parents are visibly doing the same thing. When asked what made him feel most supported, Marcus points to Tessa making it emotionally safe for him to leave the house for long workouts. His longest training run lasted six and a half hours, and there were moments when the children cried just as he was leaving. Tessa reassured him that they were fine and that he should go. He could call during a run, hear activity in the background, and still hear her say that the children were simply having a hard moment and would be fine. This prevented him from using family circumstances as an excuse and let him take full responsibility for the training outcome. They say the key is communicating each person’s goals and coordinating schedules rather than treating one person’s goal as automatically more important. They see individual pursuits as serving the family’s greater good. Marcus’s running can make him a better husband, father, and example; Tessa’s goals can likewise enrich her and benefit the household. The same principle applies to reading the Bible or praying as a family: these practices are not framed as selfish individual projects but as ways to become better for the family.

The couple describes a practical system built around early mornings, limited childcare, shared responsibilities, and communication. Marcus often wakes at 5:00 or 5:15 a.m. and completes personal work before the first child comes into the living room. Once the children are awake, he puts his phone away and spends time with them. They currently have a babysitter for about two days a week, four hours at a time, which gives them space for tasks such as recording the podcast or doing a trail run together. They also homeschool, so the children are home with them most of the time. Tessa cooks approximately five days a week and says she enjoys baking and cooking because it lets her be present with the children and focus on one activity. Marcus handles smoking meat and more elaborate meals. Someone deep-cleans the house about once every three weeks, or roughly monthly. The rest of the household work is shared without keeping score: if Tessa cooks, Marcus cleans up; if one of them needs to leave for something, the other handles the home responsibilities. The children participate as well. Marcus turns cleaning into a baseball game, pitching a knotted cleaning towel and having the children clean for 30 seconds when they strike out. They acknowledge that other families may use more childcare, cleaning, meal services, or outside help. Their conclusion is not that every family should copy their arrangement, but that each family should build the life that aligns with its values. They encourage listeners to examine whether their activities serve the family or create unnecessary stress, and to trust themselves enough to pursue the kind of marriage, parenthood, and household they actually want.