Quick picture before starting the SF Half Marathon in 2023

How Do You Eat an Elephant?

A few weeks ago, I was finishing up a run in preparation for my first full marathon—one of the last long runs before race day. The first few miles went smoothly. My strides felt great, the music was hitting, and I was taking my running gels at the right times.

Then I hit mile 14.

Running along a trail in the Sacramento summer heat, my hopes of finishing this 18-mile training run quickly evaporated, going from easy to impossible. While my lungs felt fine, my heart rate crept up. The heat was getting to me despite constant hydration.

Well, I'm more than halfway done. I've done enough work.

Mile 15 brought pain in my right foot. Approaching mile 16, I could barely lift my legs.

If I stop now, no one will judge me. Sixteen-ish miles is close enough to 18, right?

My mind worked faster than my legs to convince me to quit. Then it really got bad.

What am I even doing training for a marathon? I've never run that far. Race day is a couple weeks away and I'm here struggling to finish 18 miles. I can't do it.

After mile 16, I faced two final obstacles. First was a pedestrian bridge crossing over a freeway—my only elevation training. Normally I pushed through with no problem, but I had zero confidence I'd make it to the top, let alone mile 18. The final obstacle was the last mile on a flat bike path with no shade. My hydration pack was nearly empty, and with the sun beating down, I was sure I'd stop along the path. Even if I finished the 18 miles, I'd still be over half a mile from my doorstep.

After the Berkeley 10k 2024, where I started late and was fighting a cold

An Enemy as Big as an Elephant

It's easy to feel overwhelmed when something big is on your plate—a major interview, presentation, school project, marathon. When your mind isn't in the right place, completing anything can feel impossible. As someone who has struggled with depression, you realize your biggest enemy is often your own mind. It's one thing to lose motivation in the moment. It's another when you doubt yourself entirely.

But that self-doubt, those nerves and fears—they can be overcome. Sometimes it just takes stepping back, taking a deep breath, and seeing the full picture. Then you start putting pieces together and setting up your attack plan. Not for the whole war—that's too big and what got you anxious in the first place. You take it one battle at a time.

One Bite At A Time

I remember a moment as a kid, maybe in middle school. I can't recall what I was stressed about, but I was standing in my parents' backyard one evening talking to my dad.

As I explained whatever was on my mind, he asked, "How do you eat an elephant?"

"I don't know, just take a bite?" I responded, confused about where this was going.

"No, you cut it up into small pieces," he said with a smile.

At the time I didn't fully understand it. I probably made comments about "Why would I eat an elephant?" and "If I take enough bites, I'll eventually finish the whole thing." But that wasn't the point.

Yes, if you work toward something, you'll eventually get there. But it's not always that easy. We get so focused on the end goal that we forget about all the work it takes to get there. When we encounter problems, we question ourselves, our goals, and sometimes we give up.

What my dad meant was this: by breaking large, complicated things into smaller pieces, you can focus on what's directly in front of you. Something that felt impossible becomes manageable. Take things one piece, one practice, one word, one day at a time, and next thing you know, you've made it to the finish.

Not my best look…but I had just finished the SF Full Marathon 2025

The Real Victory

As my audio coach said during that training run: "The marathon is not on race day. It is the days, weeks, and months of training and commitment to showing up on race day that is the true marathon."

I pushed through the rest of that training run. I picked up the pace, blew past mile 18, and ran the extra distance home. On marathon day, I couldn't help but think about how far I'd come since my first training run where I struggled to run just a couple of miles—as I breezed past mile 20 heading toward the final 6.2.

Sometimes the biggest victories aren't crossing finish lines. They're the moments when you choose to cut the elephant into smaller pieces, and keep moving forward—one bite at a time.