Knowing When to Pivot: Flexibility is a Mental Skill
This isn’t just a race recap. It’s a reflection on ambition, letting go, and the mental strength it takes to pivot with purpose.
Saturday in the Mountains
This past weekend, I ran the Leadville Trail Marathon. I’ve raced in Leadville enough times to lose count, but I think this was my third time specifically doing the marathon. It’s long been a way to kick off my summer race season. And if you’ve ever run or biked in this two-mile-high mountain town, you know: Leadville humbles even the fittest athletes.
The altitude and stunning high country views take your breath away—literally and figuratively—and the rocky, relentlessly climbing trails never let up. I both love and fear this course, and always know that I am in for a challenging day doing what I love, surrounded by others who also choose to spend an early Saturday morning in June testing their limits.
Saturday was no exception.
A Strong Race, a Shift in Perspective
All things considered, my race went really well. I missed my time goal by just a couple of minutes, but still came in under my personal best, and landed the final podium spot in the 40–49 age group. With 48 just around the corner, those podiums are getting harder to reach.
Though I’ve completed a handful of longer races this year, this was my first true mountain running test since surgery in June 2024, and it had been two full years away from high-altitude racing. I had to work for it—climbing Mosquito Pass at 13,000+ feet hurt more than I’d hoped—but I stayed focused and present, connected to the joy I feel in these places, fueled my body well, bounced back from a fall, and closed hard on the final descent. Getting to see Mike twice on the course with his positivity and encouragement helped cheer me onward when I needed it most.
It was, by almost every measure, a successful day.
Except for one thing.
My A-goal—the one that brought me to this start line in the first place—was to earn a coveted “coin,” the symbolic token that grants entry to the Leadville Trail 100. But in this ever-evolving and increasingly hard-to-get-into race series, a third-place podium finish is no longer enough. This time, there would be no coin and no path into the LT100 from this race.
When Goals Don’t Go as Planned
It might sound bold—or naive—to say I thought I had this one in the bag. But I’ve long believed in saying my ambitious goals out loud. Years ago, I aimed to qualify for the Marathon Olympic Trials. I spoke that goal aloud, believed in it, and chased it across several races—even though I still needed to shave off seven minutes. That’s a lot of time at that pace, especially for someone over 40. While I never hit that qualifying time, the journey and personal growth I gained from believing I could and going all in on the process were far more valuable than the 2:45 finish line I never crossed.
Self-belief is a powerful tool, and it supports the mindset I need to go after big things, especially when paired with consistent, specific training.
When I realized the coin wasn’t mine, Plan B came into view: a chance to try again in just two weeks at Silver Rush, a brutal 50-miler I had registered for as a training effort, not an all-out race. I wasn’t physically or mentally prepared to push that hard again so soon.
And that quiet, familiar inner voice started tugging at me, asking if continuing made sense, or if it was time to pivot.
That’s where psychological flexibility comes in.
What Is Psychological Flexibility?
Psychological flexibility is the ability to stay rooted in your values and long-term goals while adapting to what the present moment actually requires.
It doesn’t mean giving up. It means being open enough—and honest enough—to adjust your strategy when reality shifts.
In the endurance world, we’re often praised for grinding it out, never quitting, always charging ahead. But sometimes, the strongest move isn’t pushing through—it’s stepping back, reassessing, and choosing a new direction that aligns with what matters most.
Rigid, inflexible goals can become cages. When we cling to them out of habit, ego, or fear, we risk burnout, injury, or slipping into a mindset of “I have to” instead of “I get to.”
learning to pivot with purpose
I’m lucky to have a husband who gently reminds me that my perseverance can sometimes veer into plain old stubbornness. He reminded me that choosing to redirect or redefine my goals isn’t weakness—it’s strength.
After some time to reflect, I realized my drive was no longer solely about running the 100 anymore. It was about the comeback story I started writing last summer, when I was recovering from surgery and cheering friends on from the sidelines at the LT100.
That version of me needed something big to aim for—and I found it. I worked my way back to distance running with patience, the help of an incredible rehab team, and smart, steady coaching. I went from zero to marathon to 50K, rebuilding my fitness quicker than I expected. I proved I could still compete, and more importantly, reconnect with the joy I have always found doing what I love on the roads and trails.
So why keep chasing the LT100 now? It helped bring me back to a sport I love, but after missing my shot last Saturday, it’s started to feel more tied to that “never back down” part of me that’s gotten me through a lot—and at times has also kept me pushing when I should’ve paused.
If I’d earned that coin on Saturday, I know I’d be busy working with Mike to figure out how to squeeze in a big training block right now. But I didn’t. And in that space, something else opened up: choice.
The Space Between Goals and Growth
At the awards ceremony, standing on the podium, I felt two things at once: pride in a race that reflected my best effort for the day and a quiet grief that this might mark the end of my Leadville summer.
Over the past seven months, I’ve trained with focus, sacrificing time, sleep, and energy. And while I believe deeply in modeling passion and perseverance for my kids, I also believe in doing hard things for the right reasons. Not just because they are hard.
Training for a 100-mile mountain race requires total buy-in. I needed to be sure I wasn’t still chasing this goal out of fear of letting go, fear of what others might think, out of habit, or my ego.
So I gave myself permission to pause and ask: What still matters? And what’s worth pursuing now?
Letting Go to Make Space for What’s Next
The answer came quietly, but clearly: I’m ready to pivot.
I had already signed up for a road marathon in December—a return to the race where I first broke three hours, and a chance to travel with a close friend I rarely get to see these days. And even more exciting: I’ve decided to pursue a new challenge.
I was invited to compete in the World Masters Marathon Championships in Cape Town, South Africa, next May—a goal I had to shelve last fall after my knee injury kept me from racing in Sydney.
I am excited to train for something new and plan for another international adventure with the family.
Will I miss Leadville in August? Absolutely. But the mountains will still be there. I’ll still be running them with friends, with gratitude, and with the kind of acceptance that knows not this year doesn’t mean never again. I’m lucky to return in two weeks for the 15-miler instead of the 50—no pressure to earn a coin this time, just space to soak it all in and reconnect with what I love most about those trails
Closing Thoughts: Flexibility Is Strength
As a therapist, an endurance athlete, and a human, this much I know:
Psychological flexibility isn’t a fallback—it’s a performance skill. It’s a life skill. It’s a strength.
It helps us:
Pivot with purpose
Avoid burnout
Let go of rigid attachment
Reconnect with our why
So in the words of Leadville Trail 100 founder Ken Chlouber, “Dig deep.” But in endurance—and in life—mental strength isn’t just about pushing through. It’s about knowing what you’re digging for and having the flexibility to change course when that’s what truly makes sense.
