I ran my worst marathon in 2014.
It was the best thing that ever happened to my coaching.

I started running in 2007 on the trails behind my house in Broad Run, Virginia. Nothing fancy — just an old pair of sneakers and a stubborn streak. Within a year, I was hooked. Within two, I'd signed up for my first marathon at Marine Corps.

For years, I did what most self-coached runners do: more miles, more speed, more suffering. It worked — until it didn't. In 2014, I went out too fast at Richmond and hit the wall so hard I couldn't finish. I sat on the curb at mile 18 and thought about quitting the sport entirely.

Instead, I got curious. I studied exercise science. Got my RRCA certification, then USATF Level 2. I learned that the athletes who thrive aren't the ones who train the hardest — they're the ones who train the smartest. I started coaching friends, then friends-of-friends, and in 2015, launched Broad Run Coaching from my kitchen table with three athletes.

Today, I've coached 200+ runners from the trails of Bull Run Mountain to start lines at Boston, New York, Western States, and everywhere in between. I still run these same trails every morning. And I still remember what it feels like to sit on that curb — which is exactly why I coach the way I do.