How to Redefine Your Impossible by Running 175 km at UTMB

Three years ago, I thought it was impossible to run 20 km without stopping.

Fifty kilometers? Out of the question.

One hundred kilometers? Was that even humanly possible? I didn’t even know people were doing it.

And yet, this past weekend, I stood on the start line of the UTMB, the most iconic trail race on the planet. From Chamonix, France, the route loops around Mont Blanc through Italy and Switzerland before returning home. 175 km. 10,320 meters of elevation.

Forty-one hours and forty-nine minutes later, I crossed the finish line.

If you’d told me three years ago this would happen, I would have laughed and said: impossible.

But the truth is, our “impossible” is just waiting to be redefined.

Lesson 1: Adapt or die

Charles Darwin once said, “It is not the strongest of the species that survives, nor the most intelligent. It is the one most adaptable to change.”

That truth hit me hard on the first night in the mountains.

I left an aid station underdressed: shorts, no leggings, no waterproof pants on, everything stuffed in my running vest with misplaced confidence. Rain turned to snow. Wind bit through my clothes. My fingers froze until I couldn’t even grip my poles, even with two pairs of gloves. For the first time in my life, I wasn’t just thinking about quitting. I was thinking about survival.

I eventually managed to pull on my waterproof pants, but by then I was already soaked.

I was lucky enough to reach a small hut filled with shivering runners and medics. That heater, and those kind medics , saved my race, and possibly my life.

I learned that mandatory gear is not a suggestion. Preparation isn’t optional. And more importantly: in racing, and in life, you survive and thrive by adapting. Circumstances change, often brutally. How you respond defines whether you move forward or stop altogether.

This doesn’t just apply to trail running. Life rarely goes as planned. Things break. Storms come. People let us down. Adaptability is the bridge between uncertainty and survival, between impossible and possible.

Lesson 2: The power of human connection

I’ve run races before, but I’ve never felt this kind of energy. Thousands of strangers shouting my name. A little kid screaming with so much passion it lit up my whole day. Entire towns cheering, music echoing in the mountains, strangers clapping and encouraging us as if we were heroes.

This was the best send-off I’ve ever experienced.

There were legendary athletes like Sally McRae (YellowRunner) high-fiving ordinary runners like me.

There’s magic when humans unite.

In those moments, it didn’t matter where we came from, what language we spoke, or what level we were at. We were all human beings chasing our own extraordinary.

This lesson stuck with me: support doesn’t just come from the people closest to us. Strangers can lift us higher than we thought possible. And we can be that stranger for someone else.

For me, this was huge. I’ve struggled with self-esteem and identity for years. Seeing humans support each other without expecting anything in return was pure love, pure energy, it was healing.

One of my closest friends (more like family), Arthur, sent me a message before the race that brought tears to my eyes: wishing me luck, reminding me he believed in me, and telling me that no matter the result, I was already a winner for simply standing on that start line. Imagine having a friend like that. And he didn’t stop there he kept messaging Anja, my partner, throughout the race to check how I was doing. Isn’t that incredible? We can all be a friend like that to ourselves and to others.

Of course, I couldn’t have done this without two amazing humans on course. Anja and Boštjan were my anchors, organizing, preparing, and standing sleepless at aid stations so I could keep moving. Anja had everything ready; I didn’t have to think about a thing: just eat, change, and go. And Boštjan was endlessly supportive and kind, encouraging me to keep going.

My coach David, the Camino Ultra family, Paula, and countless friends who sent messages, they carried me through the lows.

And then there was Anya, an incredible endurance athlete I have the honor of coaching. She sent me beautiful, inspiring messages throughout the whole race.

This race wasn’t just about me. It was about all of us.

Lesson 3: Redefining the impossible

When I first started trail running and doing 100 km races, it was to prove I was worthy to myself and to others.

But after years of therapy and personal development, I’ve realised something deeper:

Running ultras isn’t about proving anything.

It’s about redefining my own impossible.

At first, the impossible might be running 10 km. For someone else, it might be writing a book, starting a business, losing weight, or leaving behind what feels “safe.”

The hardest part isn’t the physical challenge. It’s the discomfort of not knowing if you’ll actually get there it’s uncertainty.

As Tim Ferriss says: “Most people will choose unhappiness over uncertainty.”

But certainty is a trap. Comfort is an even bigger trap. Growth happens only when you step into the unknown, into discomfort.

The key is learning to feel certain in our own abilities and in the Universe. We can’t control external circumstances, if it will snow, rain, or how others will react. But we can control how we prepare, how we respond, and how we show up.

If the result isn’t what I expected, then it’s okay. It means there’s a lesson I needed to learn. Maybe it’s that I had to train harder or smarter. Maybe it’s mental preparation. Maybe it’s something I don’t yet understand. But either way, everything that happens is here to teach me.

I often wonder how many extraordinary people have wasted their lives because they were scared to face uncertainty. They stayed on the sidelines, blending into the crowd, doing what society or their parents told them was “possible.” Deep down, they wanted to be in the arena, but fear kept them in the stands.

The scariest part is, it’s often not even a conscious choice. People give in to their programming. They let society, parents, and brands shape their thinking. They choose comfort.

But comfort is killing dreams. Trying to avoid discomfort robs us of joy.

Here’s the truth: it’s impossible to achieve anything meaningful without being uncomfortable. Most people want comfort. They want Netflix and chill. But that comfort comes at the cost of growth, passion, and purpose.

It’s easier to dream than to do. Easier to criticise than to create.

But impossible becomes possible only when we step forward, take responsibility, and face uncertainty head-on. That’s how uncertainty becomes certainty.

The saddest part is knowing that so many extraordinary humans (because we all are) never reach their potential. They don’t share their gifts with a world that desperately needs them, like a freezing trail runner needs heat on top of a mountain.

I know that when I redefine my impossible, I give someone else permission to pursue theirs.

This reminds me of a beautiful poem by Marianne Williamson, “Our Deepest Fear.” One line that always stays with me is:

“It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”

Why I run

So why run 175 km around Mont Blanc? Why suffer for nearly two days when I could just as easily binge Netflix with popcorn?

Because this is how I meet my extraordinary. This is how I pursue my own greatness.

Trail running has transformed me. It reconnected me to nature, to my body, to my inner strength. It taught me unconditional self-acceptance. I don’t run for applause anymore. I run because every race transforms me into a new version of myself and that transformation inspires me, and hopefully others, to redefine their own impossible.

We can’t meet our extraordinary by staying comfortable. We meet it when we step outside, when we take risks, when we move, when we dare.

And the beautiful thing? Every single one of us has an extraordinary waiting to be discovered.

Your impossible right now might look different than mine.

It might be running your first 10 km.

It might be creating art.

It might be losing weight.

It might be quitting smoking.

It might be changing careers.

It might be learning to love yourself.

Whatever it is, take one step today. Because every step forward redefines what you once thought impossible.

Beyond running

Trail running isn’t just about running. It’s about transformation. It’s about meeting your extraordinary, redefining your impossible, and inspiring others to do the same.

It can even change the world for the better. The confidence, resilience, and connection to nature that trail running gives us helps in every part of life. It can help with mental health, obesity, and loneliness. It can inspire us to show up more caring, more giving, more alive. Trail running can infuse passion into life and remind us of our inner greatness.

Because when we chase our impossible, we don’t just transform ourselves. We inspire others to do the same.

Trail running helps us go beyond our expectations. It gives us the freedom and adventure our souls crave. It reignites passion for life and reminds us how deeply we’re connected to each other. We can take that energy from trail running and bring it into everyday life.

And here’s the thing: you don’t need to be running UTMB. You don’t need to be racing at all. You can just put on a pair of shoes, head into the woods, breathe fresh air, touch the trees, connect with nature, and reconnect with yourself. You don’t need fancy T-shirts or the latest watch. Trail running can be that simple. Crazy, right?

Trail races themselves are incredible too. They let us test our limits while knowing we have support on course. To me, they are a celebration of what we can achieve together. They’re a date in the calendar that gives me a clear vision and a deadline. When we know we have a race, we know we have to train. We have to do the work today. And that focus on today’s training is all that matters.

The finisher T-shirt or hoodie isn’t just a souvenir. It’s a daily reminder of what we accomplished. It sparks conversations with strangers. It reminds us of our own resilience — something we sometimes forget when life gets heavy.

I’m deeply grateful to the UTMB team and all the volunteers who make this event possible and seamless. Whatever your opinion of UTMB as a brand, they inspire people to hit the trails and bring together humans from all backgrounds and nationalities. It’s not just a “cool” event. It’s an event that helps us meet our extraordinary.

On the mountain, when I was on the verge of hypothermia, there were medics and everything I needed to keep going. That’s why UTMB is what it is. I know there are countless things happening behind the scenes that runners never see — and I’m grateful for that.

So thank you UTMB, thank you medics, and thank you volunteers.

This was an incredible race, and an even more incredible journey to the finish line.