Badwater 135 and a Bleeding Heart

12 days ago, I made it public I had pulled from one of my favorite races: Badwater 135; a race I have won and had the privilege of finishing three times. With the course just three hours from home, Death Valley and the Eastern Sierra have been a staple for long training camps throughout my career; but most importantly-it is a place where I have continually felt deep connection and peace.

Pulling from the race was a difficult decision, especially after working hard to qualify since knee surgery last year. I knew this year’s race would prompt questioning: Was my knee going to hold up for 135 miles on pavement after only 8 months of being cleared to run? What kind of fitness could I bring to the table to be competitive? But I was optimistic and willing to try. There was also talks of making a beautiful film and sharing a deeper story outside of the typical “hottest, toughest footrace,” so I began dreaming, preparing; and training daily.

On May 4, 2026, I stood at the Start line of Cocodona 250; it would be my second race of the year after running the Long Haul 100 race in January. I had finished Long Haul without any knee pain and confidently continued building my weekly mileage and strength workouts for the races ahead. I’ll pause here and acknowledge the fact that my trajectory felt possible because of the 16+ years experience in ultra running; and for having remained injury free for over a decade (which I heavily accredit to consistent weight training, eating, and practicing the basics of recovery.) Even as a coach, I’m not sure I would recommend signing up for a 100 mile, a 250 mile, and a 135 mile race so quickly, but, this is me. I deeply love this sport- far beyond the racing; the media; or the sponsorships. In the purest way we as humans love anything- I love to run. And after years of trying and achieving wild feats- without injury or setback; it was natural to settle into what I’ve always known: a schedule packed with the races and places that set my soul on fire.

This year, however; has been filled with challenges I’ve chosen not to speak about, for now. For those who have followed me over the years, they know I share openly about my life. I’ve shared the real stuff- the disappointments; failures; and the highest highs and joy that comes with fulfilling a dream or being a mama. I’ve shared things that are difficult, knowing it will bring encouragement to at least one person. My book Choose Strong took 20 years to publish- particularly because I wavered with the value of making my story public in such a descriptive and raw account. It’s been three years since I released my book and the response has been overwhelmingly positive in the ways I had only hoped: People are choosing to be strong; to forgive; and to believe that hope still exists.

In a world that sometimes, oddly glorifies and rewards people for creating accounts based on their traumas; I’ve done my best to steer clear of that path. If I were to spend all my days posting content about why I’m sad or why I’m struggling while forsaking the truth found in hope, love and strength- I am posting in vain. Sharing what hurts with the intention of gaining followers, brand deals, and coddling comments is a slippery slope- for what happens when we heal? Who are we then? Creating an identity in the challenges without showing what we’re learning or how we’re growing doesn’t help anyone, most importantly, it doesn’t help the soul behind the account. Sometimes, what we need is to step away and do the real work; with real people- face to face.

It might come as a surprise to share that so much of what I write about is done with a bleeding heart; a heart that can’t help but feel everything and everyone around me in ways that sometimes torment me. While I have been known since I was a child for having unrelenting joy and strength, I also carry with me indescribable grief, ache, and heaviness. BUT, I have been bestowed an invaluable gift: HOPE. No matter how dark or dismal a situation or an entire season may be, I am stubbornly hopeful. And this is always the message I hope to relay to the world: strength and hope no matter the circumstance. The past six months have been painful in ways I haven’t experienced in a while, but I see the glimmer in the dark and everyday, I move forward.

My race recovery after Cocodona 250 exposed hard truths about life right now; and when I survey the performance I had, and reflect on the voices that were swirling in my head- it’s hard to deny how much of me was falling apart in that race. As the weeks passed, I questioned my goals for Badwater 135. My training had steep ups and woeful downs; and some days, it took me over an hour to move from my car before starting a run. I poured myself into writing and long days in the mountains talking to God. I ran alone; in silence, being still while in motion. It was in these moments I let go of my goals for Badwater- holding onto the fact that races aren’t necessary- they are gifts. I am thankful for the races I’ve done throughout my career-races that have allowed me to meet the best people; see the most beautiful parts of the world; and bring home lessons I’ve applied to training and life.

So, 12 days ago when I posted on Instagram that I was no longer racing Badwater 135, it was a healthy embrace of my current state. I was acknowledging my mental and emotional state and it was apparent to me that my competitive goals had not been given proper attention or training. It was time to pivot- although, I had pivoted awhile back; I was finally releasing my stubborn grip on an event I love so much.

This past weekend I spent a full day in the mountains on my beloved Mount Baldy. I chose a route I often do when training for European races like UTMB. The route involves tagging the summit twice while climbing over 10,000ft within 30 miles. It’s a humbling course but so beautiful and I’m pretty sure I smiled over a dozen times to myself while saying, “Thank you God- thank you.” I met new and old friends as I climbed and descended and paused at the peaks to recall the poignant memories I’ve shared with dear friends since first running those trails in 2012. I finished the run exhausted and happy.

Two days later, I was sitting in the parking lot at Back Bay in Newport Beach getting ready for a recovery run, when the phone number for the Badwater Headquarters popped up on my phone. “Why are they calling me?” At first, I was going to send it to voicemail as I was crunched for time, but knew I’d be wondering about it my entire run, so I answered and Race Director, Chris Kostman’s voice came through, “Hey Sally, how you doing? I have a wild opportunity for you- I know you just dropped from the race, but a wonderful woman by the name of Caryn Lubetsky has had to suddenly drop as well and she and her crew have offered their services, hotels, and everything to you so you can come back and race.”

Me: Tears filling my eyes, “Wait what….I don’t understand…wait, are you serious?”

RD Kostman: “Well with only 7 days from the race; and you already being on the entrant list…they’re all willing to fly from Florida to help you- I know you were having some obstacles with crew, logistics and other things, so now you can come back.”

Me: “ I don’t know what to say Chris- I mean, I let go of that goal; I’m not in tip top Badwater shape as I should be…I can’t believe they’d all do that for me (heart pounding). But also this seems like one of those absolutely wild; weird opportunities that you just don’t pass up! Can I have a few hours to think on this- I’m in shock.”

RD Kostman: “Yes of course- let me know.”

I went for a run- smiling ear to ear; wondering about the opportunity and looking for every possible gift inside it. I asked myself, “What if I am supposed to run this race, but not for the original reasons I had planned? What if there’s something I need to learn about moving forward even when I don’t feel prepared? And who is this crew that they’d do this for me? I don’t deserve this- what a gift.”

I got back to my car and contacted Chris to let him know that YES, it would be an honor to be a part of the race. I then asked if I could be in an earlier Wave Start, “If it’s okay, I don’t want to be in the elite wave- I don’t know how this race will go for me, but I’m excited to see what’s in store.”

So, this is where I am.

I will be lining up to the Start line of Badwater 135 for the 4th time.

Candidly, I’m not confident physically or mentally, but I am hopeful and I will be choosing strong every step.

I hope if you take anything from this article, may it be hope.

There is great purpose for your life- even if you don’t always recognize it.

And sometimes, even in your roughest, most daunting days when you’ve relinquished all that you’ve been gripping…it returns to you but, better.

Maybe it’s not in the way you had planned, but maybe in a way you need.

Thank you for being here and for reading this post; it means a lot to me.

My race starts on Monday night in Death Valley, CA at 8pm- I hope you’ll follow along or more importantly, I hope you step outside and run or walk a few miles with me virtually. It’s a beautiful thing for all of us to be moving forward.

Strength and Love,

Sally

#chooseStrong