Searching the limits of the body and mind, one step at a time.

There have been records, wins, and accolades along the way, but running has given me a lot more than race results. It’s given me a platform to speak out on issues I care about, a way to better understand and navigate depression, the opportunity to meet my life partner, and a community of people who share a love of the outdoors.

I grew up in Hamilton, Ontario, where canoeing and cross-country skiing with my family in the Dundas Valley sparked an early appreciation for nature, conservation, and protecting the places we love. Always trying to keep up with my older brother and father, I developed a competitive streak and was willing to try just about any sport.

My dad introduced me to distance running through the local Around the Bay 30K and, later, the Boston Marathon. I was fascinated by the sport, though it would be years before I found my own path as a competitive runner. In high school, I played badminton and water polo, but triathlon became my main focus. I eventually represented Canada twice at the World Championships.

At Butler University, I competed in cross country and middle-distance events, including the 800 and 1,500 meters, while completing a Doctor of Pharmacy degree. After graduating in 2002, I figured my running days were behind me. I moved to Phoenix to work as a pharmacist on the overnight shift, from 9 p.m. to 8 a.m., seven days on and seven days off. I kept that demanding schedule for the next 13 years.

In 2006, ready for a change, I moved to Flagstaff, Arizona. I planned to study for my Canadian pharmacy board exams and eventually move back home, but the mountain community pulled me back into running. After years away from the sport, I started training hard—probably too hard. I ran the Boston Marathon in 2007, but injuries soon began to get in the way.

Despite those setbacks, I signed up for the 120-mile TransRockies Run in 2009. The six-day stage race pushed me to my limits, and I could barely make it to the finish of the final stage. But something good came out of it: I met my future wife, Christina Bauer.

Soon afterward, I was diagnosed with Haglund’s deformity in both heels and underwent surgery that kept me away from running for two years. Christina and I spent that time building a life together and exploring our shared love of the outdoors through camping, hiking, climbing, fly fishing, and ski mountaineering. Running, though, was off the table, and for a while, I wasn’t sure I’d ever get back to it.

Living in Flagstaff, it’s hard to stay away from running forever. I also began to recognize how much the sport meant to me beyond fitness and competition. It gave me a sense of peace and helped me cope with ongoing struggles with depression. After spending much of the winter ski mountaineering at Arizona Snowbowl, I entered the 2012 Moab Red Hot 33K on a whim—and unexpectedly won. More races followed, and I started to find my place in ultra running. The longer the distance, the more at home I felt.

The years that followed brought opportunities I could hardly have imagined. I qualified for the 2013 Western States Endurance Run by winning the Leona Divide 50 Mile, established Fastest Known Times for the single and double crossings of the Grand Canyon, and began competing at the highest levels of the sport. Running became more than a competition. It was a way to explore my limits, connect with the landscape, and explore my limits.

I feel fortunate that running has opened doors well beyond racing. One of the most meaningful has been the opportunity to speak openly about mental health. I hope that sharing my experiences with depression helps reduce some of the stigma surrounding it. Running has helped me through difficult periods, but I also know what it’s like to have days when simply getting out the door feels impossible. Both are part of my story, and I think it’s important to be honest about that.

Christina has been a constant source of balance, stability, love, and teamwork. In 2015, we joined the Sierra Club in advocating for the Greater Grand Canyon Heritage National Monument, an effort to protect landscapes we cherish from threats including uranium mining and logging. Protecting public lands remains a cause close to our hearts.

Christina has also encouraged me to explore other endurance sports, especially ski mountaineering. After competing in Canada and the United States, I had the opportunity to represent Canada at the 2017 Ski Mountaineering World Championships in the Italian Dolomites. I wrapped up that season racing alongside my North Face teammate Mike Foote at the iconic four-day Pierra Menta stage race in the French Alps.

Since 2015, Christina and I have opened our home to trail runners from around the world through our trail running camps. What began as a chance to share our favorite trails has grown into a community built around running, learning, and friendship. Welcoming runners of different ages and abilities has reinforced something I value deeply: the connections we make on the trails can extend far beyond running itself.

Ultimately, I think success in sport matters most when we can use the opportunities it creates to do some good. Through racing, coaching, camps, speaking, and ongoing conversations about mental health and public lands, I hope to share what I’ve learned and help others find their own reasons to get outside and pursue the things that matter to them.