Choosing Pain: My First 50 Mile Ultramarathon

• 18 months ago I weighed nearly 300 pounds.
• 11 months ago I ran my first organized race, a Thanksgiving themed 5k.
• 6 months ago I ran my first half marathon.
• 1 month ago I ran my first ultra, a 9/11 themed 50k.
• Now I have ran my first 50 mile ultramarathon.

Writing these numbers feels surreal. It seems like just yesterday running a single mile felt impossible. But now I have crossed the finish line of my first 50-mile ultramarathon. It was cold, it was wet, it was muddy, and it was the hardest thing I have ever done in my life. And yet, somehow, it was also amazing.

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🗺️ THE BEGINNING 🗺️

Eighteen months ago, I was nearly 300 pounds. I was pre-diabetic, my blood pressure was high. My health was slipping, and my confidence hit rock bottom. I didn’t recognize the person I had become. I was stuck in a cycle of poor sleep, trash eating, low energy, missed opportunities and each day was a repeat of the last.

But one small step — literally — changed everything. I started walking. Eating healthy. Lifting weights. Then running.

My first organized race was a 5K, just 11 months ago. I remember thinking crossing that finish line was the greatest achievement. And it was at that time for me! Then came a half marathon, a 50K, and now, somehow, a 50-miler.

Every distance I once thought was impossible became a stepping stone to the next one.

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🏃‍♂️ RACE DAY 🏃‍♂️

Race morning was brutal. Cold. Rainy. Windy. The kind of day that makes you want to stay inside, snuggle on the couch with a cup of hot chocolate and watch the Christmas movie “Die Hard”, not run for 12 hours straight through mud. (Yippee Ki-Yay.)

The trail was a mess — wet, slippery mud clung to my shoes and sapped my energy with every step. The rain was relentless. My legs burned. My lower back ached. My knees screamed. My quads and hamstring muscles felt like they were tearing apart. And yet… I kept moving forward. One step after another.

As the race unfolded, optimism faded into struggle. Struggle transformed into determination. And through that determination came results.

That’s the exact process of an ultramarathon. An unbreakable drive to keep moving forward even when everything hurts. I’m not going to sugarcoat it. Running 50 miles is brutal. Add the rain, the mud, the cold… But I knew this suffering was coming well before I ever set foot on the trail. I knew the agony that awaited me. I signed up for it— on purpose. Because I knew this would be a raw test of my willpower.

I also knew this pain was temporary but the pain of quitting— of giving up on myself— would last forever. I’d rather endure the pain that pushes me forward than the pain that holds me back.

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🍔 MILE 27: BURGER 🍔

There was a moment at the mile 27 aid station which felt like pure magic. The volunteers handed me a plain burger — no onion, no cheese, no sauce, just a patty on some bread. Normally, that would be nothing special. But after nearly 30 miles in the cold rain, that burger tasted like heaven. I could have sworn Gordon Ramsey himself dropped from the sky and grilled up some patties at that aid station….

I sat there for just a few minutes, steam rising from the meat, feeling both completely broken and completely alive. That moment reminded me why I came here in the first place — because it strips away everything superficial and leaves only what’s real: effort, gratitude, and grit.

That burger gave me the burst of calories I desperately needed — just enough fuel to get back up, dig deep, and keep pushing out more miles.

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❤️ RUNNING WITH THE WIFE ❤️

My wife ran the race with me. We stuck together for most of it, step for step through the muck and misery. When things got dark — and they do in a race like this — we leaned on each other.

As we neared the finish line, with one mile left, she looked at me and told me to go for it. I knew she meant for me to take this final stretch and push it with everything I had. I took off sprinting as fast as I could muster with my last remaining energy.

Somehow, with 49 miles behind me, I found one last burst of energy and pushed through that final mile as hard as I could.

It hurt. Every muscle screamed. But I wasn’t about to stop now.

I also want to pause and congratulate her on her awesome victory as well. She too ran her first 50 mile ultramarathon and knocked it out of the park!!

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🏁 THE FINISH LINE 🏁

That final stretch was emotional. I could feel the tears welling up — not from the pain, but from the overwhelming realization of how far I’ve come. Eighteen months ago, I couldn’t run a block. Now I was finishing 50 miles in the cold rain. I will admit, I cried some unmanly tears.

I managed to pull myself together before crossing the line, but in that moment, I knew I had done something life-changing.

I didn’t meet my time goal — the conditions were too rough for that — but honestly, I don’t care. I finished. And finishing this race wasn’t just about endurance. It was about redemption.

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🔥 PAIN AND PURPOSE 🔥

When I was obese, pain was a constant part of my life. My knees, my back — everything hurt just from carrying the weight of my own body. That pain wasn’t a choice; it was the consequence of being comfortable. Of not caring about my health.

Now, I choose my pain. The pain of this race, my burning legs, my aching lungs. With every painful step, when the urge to quit crept in, I reminded myself — this is the pain I get to choose. I get to decide.

Ultrarunning hurts. There’s no sugarcoating it. It’s pain layered on top of exhaustion, wrapped in self-doubt. But through that pain, you discover who you really are. You learn what you’re capable of when the easy way out isn’t an option.

This journey has taught me that the limits we believe in are often self-imposed. With time, discipline, and relentless consistency, those limits crumble.

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🚀 WHAT’S NEXT 🚀

This was my first 50-miler, but it won’t be my last. I’ll keep pushing, keep learning, and keep seeing how far the human body — and the human spirit — can go.

Because once you’ve transformed from 300 pounds to ultra runner, you realize that “impossible” is just a word you use— until you decide to challenge it.

Pain is temporary. Growth is forever. And there is no finish line.

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Andrew Frizzell | Iron Will Weight Loss