No one tells you how hard it is to go from being fearless to not believing in yourself at all. I went from fearlessly signing up for ultramarathons to being afraid to get out for a run. It’s been 9 years since I ran an ultramarathon. A lot has changed; I’m in my thirties, my body moves more slowly, I have experienced trauma, I have experienced loss, I have gained weight, and I have continuously battled with depression and anxiety.
Over these last 9 years, I have completely struggled with my body image. Last year, I reluctantly joined Trail Sisters. While I haven’t been to many runs, I will say this: I felt better running with a group. My struggle with negative self-talk and shame still lingered, but I liked meeting new people. I enjoyed talking about running, hearing inspiring race stories, and challenging myself.
I think shame is incredibly powerful, and for the last 9 years, I have let it win every time. For years, shame told me that I failed my body. That gaining weight meant I had given up. That I wasn’t worthy. Who was I to go running again, let alone train for an ultramarathon? But here is the freaking truth: Shame does not define us!! We do not have to bend to it.
I have accomplished so much. I have overcome so much, and yet, all I could see was the extra weight. I wish I had been more compassionate to her over the years. Her, this body. She has done so much for me. She has protected me over and over. She deserves better. Our minds are incredibly powerful. They can help us persevere or be our own downfall. I’ve read stories about the power of positive thinking and how it can truly allow the body to heal or be a part of the healing process.
This year, something tough happened to me. But as I say this, I truly recognize how privileged I am. I was able to stop running in the hamster wheel of life and take a risk. A dream job. It was a massive change, but it made me so happy. I was thriving. And out of nowhere, it was gone, in an instant. I was and still am heartbroken. I had been told so many times before that it was too risky. So, when it didn’t end up lasting, the negative voices taunted me. They pulled me into a cold dark cave.
Being laid off is incredibly difficult, and I never wish it on anyone. With so many things gone wrong, I genuinely thought 2025 was the worst year yet. There would be weeks where I didn’t get out of bed for days. I didn’t see the sun. I felt like a failure. But I didn’t fail. I took a chance, a risk. When I realized I still had responsibilities to adhere to, I picked myself off the ground and reflected. I thought about what I wanted in this life. This short and precious life. I thought about what made me happy. Who made me happy? Dare I say running? This reflection lit a fire inside of me. I could continue to be sad and feel sorry for myself, or I could take some time to take care of myself and explore. I could start by focusing on just getting back on the trails. So, I tried it, and it helped a lot. I then realized that my pace, time, or what I looked like didn’t matter.
I am embarrassed to admit this, but there is an ultramarathon that I have registered for over 4 years in a row. There has been an excuse every single year. And not once have I been able to toe the line. Last year, I barely took my training seriously. I let shame win weekly. Hear me when I say this… Gaining weight does not make you unworthy. Shame does not define you. You should be so proud of yourself.
Being laid off is one of the best things that has ever happened to me because I cannot tell you the last time I had this much confidence. I look in the mirror, and I am incredibly proud. I show up every single day for me and take time to be calm/still. Anytime I want to say/think something dreadful about my body, I pause and reframe. I don’t think that this happened overnight. I think that I have been slowly pulling myself out of the grips of shame. To reclaim me. To reset. To be kind to myself. And to love me in all my Eras.
So yeah, I will be running in the 2026 Javelina Jundred 100K this year. And I will enjoy every moment of training. I will continue to show up for the many past and future versions of myself because she deserves it. She deserves to be loved.
Healing isn’t linear, but it is possible. It will take hard work. We deserve to heal and feel great in our bodies. We deserve to enjoy the journey. And what a beautiful journey it is.
So, I will see you back out on the trails.
Cheers,
Bethany Ripoyla
