Eat & Run

Imagine a childhood spent juggling endless chores, aiding a frail mother, and bearing the weight of a hardworking father who had little patience for excuses. That environment forged the early mindset of a young runner who believed: sometimes you just do things. In this introduction, we’ll explore how these simple words became both mantra and method.

Early on, he realized he wasn’t the fastest kid on the block, yet something about endurance drew him in. He found that, while others slowed down, he discovered renewed strength the longer he ran. That surprising spark at elementary school meets ignited a lifelong love for distance running.

But running was never just about trophies or accolades; it was a ticket out of struggle and into a realm of inner quiet and self-mastery. Every family hardship, from his mother’s declining health to his father’s iron discipline, shaped his desire to push boundaries—not just physically, but mentally and emotionally.

Welcome to the story of long-distance racing elevated to a personal quest. From weekends spent stacking wood to winning ultramarathons, our protagonist’s journey began here, with a call to keep moving, no matter the odds.

Growing up meant facing adult burdens before the usual time. Daily chores, garden work, and cooking duties weren’t hobbies; they were survival tasks. When his mother’s multiple sclerosis got worse, so did his responsibilities.

His father’s mantra—“Sometimes you just do things”—was both a demand and a guiding principle. He learned there was no sense in asking why life was unfair or why he had to sacrifice free time for chores; the only recourse was to press on. This practical style of discipline taught him that grit is forged in life’s smallest routines.

Ironically, the more he was weighed down by responsibilities, the more he sought refuge in the open road. Running became a channel for frustration, a therapy for teenage anxiety, and a physical embodiment of working through life’s obstacles.