I woke up before my alarm around 03:00 am. I had hours until the start of the race. I had my nutrition ready, my race bib collected, and my brand-new running kit laid out on the small hotel room table.
Everything was in place for my first race of the season. I had looked forward to it with giddy anticipation. This race started my love for running ultramarathons, and 4 years later, I was back.
Except that my body had other plans.
Did Not Start (DNS). Three letters that carry a unique weight, different from DNF (Did Not Finish), yet somehow more challenging to process. There’s no heroic story of pushing through, no medal for effort. Just the quiet acknowledgment that sometimes the wisest decision is not to begin.
This wasn’t my first experience with DNS. The year before, I couldn’t start the Race Across Scotland because an injury from a fall in a previous race hadn’t healed.
Months later, a severe cold forced me to withdraw from the trail championships. But those situations were different—I had time to process them, mentally prepare for the disappointment, and make peace with the decision before race day arrived.
This time was different. One moment, I was preparing for race day; the next, I was fighting through waves of pain and unpredictable bowel movements.
I would have to live with a decision forced upon me rather than chosen.
The Warning Signs
The gut challenges I experienced on race day weren’t entirely new territory. Quite the contrary.
I had been plagued with Irritable Bowel Syndrome (IBS) since my early twenties, long before I started running insanely long distances. IBS is a gastrointestinal disorder with a range of symptoms, such as bloating, pain, constipation, or diarrhea.
In the almost 20 years since my first diagnosis, I have tried various diets and protocols with more or less success.
However, I have also learned that the psychological component can not be understated and that stress and high levels of anxiety worsen my physical symptoms and vice versa.
Unfortunately, in the weeks leading up to the race, my gut was very unhappy, but I tried to ignore it and told myself it was due to the high work-related stress and that all would be well on race day.
After all, IBS symptoms can resolve as quickly as they start to show up, and I have developed strategies to manage the condition on race day. I have learned what foods I could eat the day before a race and which gels and sports drinks work best for my gut.
However, race morning remains my greatest vulnerability, and I have yet to start a race feeling 100% confident in my ability to race without suddenly needing a bathroom many times. And this race morning, I experienced the worst flare-up I’d experienced in years, leaving me curled up in pain instead of standing at the start line.
Beyond the Trail: This pattern of ignoring early warning signs isn’t unique to running—it’s a tendency many of us have in careers, relationships, and personal health. We dismiss the subtle indicators that something is amiss, convincing ourselves that everything will miraculously resolve itself when the moment of truth arrives. But our bodies and minds have wisdom we often ignore until they force us to listen.
The Emotional Journey of Quitting Before The Start
I felt like a failure. As I read the message from my friend cheering me on for the race, I felt defeated. My text telling her I didn’t start felt like an admission of weakness. I couldn’t help but regret the seemingly wasted investment in hotel costs, race fees, and travel time.
But beneath the disappointment was something more profound: a wounded ego. After all, I had always considered my mindset one of my greatest strengths in life, and I was proud I could apply my mental toughness to ultrarunning. I was the kind of athlete who could push through discomfort, had solutions for every difficulty, and would not give up no matter how challenging the situation in a race.
Now, I couldn’t even make it to the start line.
As the hours passed and I was finally ready to leave my hotel room, I faced a choice: wallow in disappointment or find meaning in this setback. I put food, water, warm clothes, and a power bank in my running pack and explored the city and its surrounding lakes and forests.
Slowly, I began the process of making peace.
I reminded myself that this morning, my body simply couldn’t run. It wasn’t a question of toughness or willpower. Not starting this race did not mean I was weak, a wimp, or a loser. It didn’t mean I let anyone down.
I reminded myself of the two races last year that I couldn’t start. Both times, I avoided more serious consequences by deciding not to try and power through despite injury or sickness.
I knew there would be more races, but I only had this one body. Taking care of it wasn’t a weakness—it was the foundation of long-term athletic development. Back then, I saw my DNS not as a failure but as an act of respect for my body and the sport.
Beyond the Trail: This struggle between identity and reality extends beyond sports. How often do we cling to self-conceptions—being the reliable friend, the tireless worker, the perfect parent—even when circumstances demand we acknowledge our limitations?
Our identities can become prisons when they prevent us from accepting necessary changes or respecting our own boundaries. This reframing—seeing withdrawal not as failure but as wisdom—is a powerful tool in all aspects of life.
Whether stepping back from a toxic relationship, declining a promotion that would destroy work-life balance, or taking a mental health day when burnout looms, the courage to prioritize well-being over external expectations is not a weakness but a profound strength.
When to Make the Call: A Personal Framework
Sometimes, the choice to not start a race is made for you – like it was made for me when my IBS symptoms prevented me from getting to the start line on time. However, there will be situations when you have a choice, and you need to weigh the pros and cons of starting a race despite not being fully physically fit.
The decision to DNS requires honesty, self-awareness, and an understanding of your risk tolerance and how that race fits your overall long-term goals.
Ultimately, no one can make the decision for you, but you can use the framework below to guide you.
Safety First
The primary question must always be: “Could starting this race cause harm?” This is not always an easy question to answer, and I have started several races with niggles and wondered if my body would hold up.
In the end, it always did, and the only time I finished a race with a serious injury was because I fell hard at the end of said race.
Due to this injury, I couldn’t run farther than 10-15 km just 3 weeks from the 215-mile Race Across Scotland. Running 215 miles is hard enough when you are healthy, and I was afraid that standing on the start line while injured would cause long-term damage.
Not starting seemed a smart decision at that time. Similarly, I caught a bad cold just one week before the German Trail Championships, and here I again chose health first.
Beyond the Trail: This “safety first” principle applies equally to life decisions. Before committing to major changes or challenges—whether a new job, relationship or personal venture—we should honestly assess potential harm.
Just as running on an injury can cause lasting damage, ignoring red flags in other areas of life can lead to deeper wounds than the temporary disappointment of waiting or walking away.
Future Impact
The second question you need to ask yourself is how this race will impact your future as an athlete. Will starting the race compromise your next training block or races? Do you have more events planned that season, and would pushing through potentially jeopardize those opportunities? Also, think about the years to come and where you are in your athletic journey.
For me, the Race Across Scotland was the big goal for the year. However, I knew I was lucky not to have an overuse – injury in the 3 years since I had been in the sport, and I didn’t want to risk not being able to train and, therefore, make progress for several months because of a decision to start a challenging race already injured.
And while this was an exciting adventure, this race would not have been critical in my development as an ultrarunner.
In the end, it was a smart decision since it allowed me to fully recover from the injury, race well in a following mountain trail race, and complete the Kullamannen by UTMB 100K with a great result, ultimately leading to the opportunity to start at the CCC UTMB one year later.
The UTMB race series is often called the “World Cup of trail running,” and runners need to pre-qualify and earn a spot through a lottery to get in.
Of course, I couldn’t have known I would be given this incredible opportunity. Still, looking back, it may be that not starting at the Race Across Scotland was indeed setting me up for being able to partake in this adventure.
Beyond the Trail: This long-view approach serves us well beyond athletic pursuits. The wisdom to sacrifice immediate satisfaction for long-term flourishing is invaluable in careers, educational decisions, or even relationships.
Just as declining one race might open doors to more meaningful opportunities later, saying “no” to certain paths can create space for more aligned possibilities to emerge.
How often do we rush into commitments, fearing missed opportunities, only to realize we’ve limited our future options in the process?
Race Priority
This is closely related to the point above. If you have set up your season with A, B, and C-races (where your A-race is the highest priority race, B-race is a supporting race and C-races are merely for training, and the result is of little to no importance), then your threshold for a DNS should be higher for your A-race than for the lower priority races.
But you also need to look at the bigger picture again.
While the Race Across Scotland was my A-race for the year, it was not my most important race regarding my long-term progress as an ultrarunner because it was not directly related to my primary objective of being able to race with the best trail runners in the sport.
However, the Kullamannen by UTMB, which was scheduled three months after the Race Across Scotland, was directly related to my main goal.
The decision to not start at the German Trail Championships when I had a cold was a bit harder because I felt like I would let my team down. However, here, too, it was the smart move to choose long-term health over the short-term satisfaction of proving to myself that I can push through even though my body is not ready.
The ultrarunning culture celebrates pushing through discomfort, making these decisions especially difficult.
Beyond the Trail: Like a racing season, life requires clear priorities. We cannot give equal importance to every opportunity, relationship, or responsibility. The art of prioritization—knowing what truly deserves our limited energy and what can be released—is perhaps one of life’s most challenging skills.
As I had to weigh team obligations against personal health, we all face difficult trade-offs between external expectations and internal well-being.
Learning to make these choices consciously rather than defaulting to “pushing through” is a lifelong practice.
Moving Forward: Acceptance and Reset
After allowing myself a day to process the disappointment, I began focusing on recovery and learning. I analyzed the weeks before the race and what could have been the culprit for my recurring gut issues over several weeks. I changed my nutrition plan to less hard-to-digest foods to give my digestive system a much-needed rest and made time for stress-relieving activities, such as meditation, foam rolling, and stretching. All activities that I had neglected for too long. I also quickly made peace with the day and focused on the upcoming challenges.
My gut health improved, and I decided three weeks later to spontaneously sign up for a 65 km trail race as a test run.
The goal was to test how my gut would feel in a race setting with the added stress of travel. However, I consciously decided not to race this race but to use it only as a long training run and enjoy a day out in nature.
The result was dramatically different from my previous experience. While not perfect, my gut remained stable, and I only had minor issues during the event.
This small success became a crucial confidence builder as I prepared for my goal races later in the season.
Beyond the Trail: This process of reflection, adjustment, and moving forward mirrors how we handle any significant disappointment or setback. Rather than dwelling on what might have been, true resilience comes from extracting lessons, implementing changes, and redirecting energy toward what lies ahead.
How differently might we approach career setbacks, relationship endings, or personal failures if we approached them with this same mindset of curious analysis and forward momentum?
In life’s journey too, we often need these smaller “test runs” after disappointment—controlled experiences that help rebuild confidence without the pressure of all-or-nothing outcomes.
Whether testing new boundaries in a healing relationship, gradually returning to a creative practice after burnout, or easing back into social engagements after a period of isolation, these intentional small steps build the foundation for future resilience.
The Courage of Making Tough Decisions
Ultrarunning teaches us to embrace discomfort, push boundaries, and discover what we’re capable of. But sometimes the greater lesson is learning when to step back, listen to our bodies, and make the difficult choice not to start.
My journey from pre-race excitement to hotel room disappointment ultimately led to greater wisdom as an athlete and coach. The race that never was became something more valuable: a master class in self-awareness and the courage to make hard decisions.
Beyond the Trail: Perhaps this is the ultimate parallel between endurance sports and life itself—both require the strength to persevere and the wisdom to know when persistence serves us and when it harms us. In a culture that often glorifies “never giving up” above all else, recognizing the value of strategic withdrawal may be the more difficult skill to master.
The next time you face a potential “DNS situation” in any area of life—whether declining a project that doesn’t align with your values, stepping back from a relationship that’s no longer healthy, or simply taking a rest day when your body signals the need—remember that some of the greatest growth happens not on the trail of relentless forward progress, but in the moments when we choose long-term well-being over short-term goals.