16/05/2026
Yesterday, I stepped into the arena at the Ultra-Trail Australia (UTA) 100-miler in the Blue Mountains. 160km of the most brutal, prestige endurance running this country has to offer.
It didnβt end the way I wanted. I DNFβd at the 91km checkpoint.
The descents absolutely destroyed my big toes. The pounding on the steep drops turned every single step into intense, blinding pain. I spent hours trying to find a way to step, to navigate the impact, to just keep moving forward. I clawed back time on the flats and the uphills, but as soon as the trail dropped, the clock just chewed me up. At 91km, staring down another massive descent and knowing I wouldn't make the next cutoff, I had to make the call to pull the pin.
Unless youβve stood on that course, it is impossible to explain the sheer brutality. Almost vertical ascents, technical rock climbing, thousands of stairs, running on exposed cliff edges, and navigation in fog so thick I could only see my own feet. Slipping, sliding, deep mud, and doing it completely solo without a crew or pacers. By the time I stopped, I was on 30 hours of zero sleep.
For someone who values commitment, consistency, and work ethic above all else, this is a bitter, hard pill to swallow. It has taken 6 years of relentless, daily discipline to build myself up to this level.
One of the hardest things for me to do in life is to stop. But the only way to truly find out who you are is to put yourself in high-risk environments where failure is a real option. I went out there, I gave it everything I had, and I tested my limits.
A massive thank you to my coach, Andrew Read. He is the one person who truly knows the sheer volume of work and suffering Iβve put in to get here. I appreciate you, mate.
To everyone who crossed that finish line: you have my ultimate respect. An incredible achievement.
As for meβthose who know me know how serious I take my goals. This isn't the end, itβs just a reset. Iβm taking a short break to let the body heal and recover, but the training doesn't stop. Iβve learned an immense amount from this weekend. Failure is humbling, it's brutal, but itβs the best teacher we have.