Slip-Resistant Shoes

I dropped my son off at school this morning, then went to Walmart to buy some Slip-Resistant shoes. It wasn’t where I thought I’d find myself today. The shoes are for a new job that I start on Monday- and while I am grateful to have found something- the job market is horrendous right now- at 48, it’s a hard reality to be starting over. Again. And if you do happen to switch career paths at this age, nobody dreams of embarking on an exciting new venture on a factory production line adorned in non-slip footwear.

But life doesn’t always go as we’d planned.

I was supposed to be in Dubuque today. For several years, the thing that I have dreamed of is running the Mines of Spain 100- a hundred-mile ultramarathon through the woodlands and bluffs above the Mississippi River in my home state of Iowa. Though this race has been a goal of mine since first learning about it sometime before 2020, it was just last year that I really got myself back into running form and made an earnest push for it. In 2024, after decades of not participating in a sport that I’ve always loved, I was able to complete my first marathon, my first 50 mile ultra, and take part in a mountain trail running series outside of Logan, Utah (where I live now.) I was registered and planning to cap it all off with the Mines of Spain race that fall, but a late season injury hampered my training. In hindsight, I do think I could have had myself ready to possibly finish the race had I tried it that year- but I knew I couldn’t train as much as I wanted or needed to have it be the experience I’d already worked so hard for. I reached out to the race director, and he graciously allowed me to defer my entry until 2025.

With that, I had every intention of rehabbing and picking up right where I left off. But life happens, sometimes directly in spite of our best intentions. We got busy at work, and I readily volunteered for every available minute of overtime. While injury was the main reason I’d deferred from the race, coming up with the extra money for travel and running gear had also been a concern. I wanted to try and get myself in a better financial position for the year ahead, and worked 50-60 hours a week from October through December. In turn, the time and energy I was able to devote to training suffered, but I thought it would be okay to make that sacrifice for a while, as long as I hit the gym hard again in January.

January had different plans. The new year slapped me almost immediately with a nasty case of the flu which made way for a respiratory infection to follow. This cleared up just in time for a tooth abscess, and an emergency weekend extraction that led to lingering nerve damage and infection. I soon after learned that my landlords were considering selling the home that I rent- with housing prices being one of the few things more disheartening than today’s job market- and a few weeks after that found out that our warehouse was closing. I’d be out of a job by the end of summer. All of this chaos and uncertainty exasperated ongoing struggles with anxiety and depression, and my training suffered more. It wasn’t that I didn’t get myself to the gym to workout at all during the winter and spring, it was just that workouts came sporadically between bouts of illness, internal strife and physical pain. This made it hard to pursue my goals with the consistency required to train for something this big. It’s not an excuse, but in early 2025 this was my reality.

When I finally started running and working out more in May, I was severely behind schedule. You can’t make up for lost time, but I tried, and developed some repetitive overuse injuries as a result. This also triggered some knee problems that I’ve fought with since high school. I did my best to find a balance between pushing hard and allowing my body time to rest and recoup when it needed, but the calendar was now working against me. It was very much a one step forward, two steps back kind of ordeal.

It was on a hot August morning that I finally came to my senses. I’d built back some stamina and was near the end of a ten-mile run, but training had become more about pushing the limits of pain tolerance than anything. I had to stop for traffic at a busy intersection, and must have looked like I was doing a peg-legged pirate impression when I finally attempted to cross. My left knee could barely bend without “working up to it” and sadly I’d been hobbling along with a limp, even when walking, for a couple of weeks by that point. I knew my body needed rest. I also knew that I was going to have to put in ten, fifteen, sometimes twenty or more miles a day to have any shot of adequately preparing for this race.

It tore me apart, but once again I contacted the race director and dropped out.

So why am I sharing all of this now? Well, the biggest reason is because earlier this year I’d started posting updates on my training, and felt with the race happening today I owe anyone who was following and might be curious an explanation. I said all along that barring injury I’d be at that starting line in October- but unfortunately injury is what kept me from getting there.

There’s a little bit more to it, however, and some things that I haven’t really told many people about the real reason that I’ve kept pursuing this race and what it means to me. As mentioned earlier, I first learned about the Mines of Spain 100 several years ago, and it was just one of those things that sounded cool and like something I might want to try one day. I’d loved running when I was a kid, done a lot of long-distance hiking as an adult, and always kind of wanted to get into trail running and ultramarathons. This race being relatively close to my hometown seemed a natural fit for my first hundred miler.

But much like this summer, there have been a lot of setbacks in the years since. I’ve had career and personal failures, spiraled into financial ruin and depression, carried debilitating shame and anxiety and fought through some really dark moments. Mines of Spain became less a race and more a beacon of resilience and hope. I always felt that accomplishing this goal would be like my own personal rise from the ashes. The race finishers buckle would be my reward for never giving up. And furthermore, I wanted to use it as testimony to encourage others not to give up on themselves either. I want to draw from these experiences and use this race as my platform to help others, and advocate for anyone who has struggled with their mental health.

If I’ve learned anything through all of this, it’s that healing from hard times is never linear. Life’s comebacks, if we’re going to make them, can be very much one step forward, two steps back. All you can really do is keep going until they’re not. That’s all I know to do, anyhow.

2025 hasn’t been all bad, either. I’ve spent a lot of great time with my son, figured out my housing situation for now, and started dating a really wonderful woman who is full of love and support. We started as friends at our previous job, have both known hard times, and now we’re determined to see each other do good things in this world, and help carry one another through. I’m in a much better place mentally than I was a year or even six months ago, and she is a very big part of that.

Today was her turn to put on the non-slip shoes- we’ll both be working together again- and as unappealing and stress inducing as starting over in a factory job at our age seems, we are trying to stay positive with plans to work hard and use this as another steppingstone. I intend to get my feet back under me, to keep building my photography business and working toward writing goals, and she’ll be chasing really big dreams as well. One foot in front of the other, we’re going to keep moving each other along.

As for running and the Mines of Spain, I’m not done with that yet either. All day today I’ve been checking social media, watching for race updates and thinking of the runners out there giving it their best on autumn trails beneath that Iowa sun. I know I should be with them, but all I can do for now is be humbly impressed from 1200 miles away. When I withdrew in August, however, the director was extremely kind and understanding. While races usually only offer a one-time deferment, he told me to get myself healthy and he’d honor my registration if I wanted to try again in 2026.

That’s what I plan to do.

When I was training last summer, I often wished to myself that I had the time to build my strength gradually and do things right. While deferring was hard, it comes with the silver lining that now this is possible again. I’ve taken some time off to let me knees heal, and as soon as I get through the new job stress, I’m going to get back into a routine and begin my training for next year.

Even if it means wearing slip-resistant shoes, I still intend to prove what is possible if we never give up. Stay tuned, I’ll have more on this journey in the months to come.