Meet Kyle

Transformation through Running RockY iV style in a basement, losing 100 pounds in one year and falling in love with running

Flashback seven years ago on New Years Eve. I was grossly obese. Depressed. Hated myself. Hated what I had become. All that jazz. You guys know the drill - "New year, new me". Except for me, that wasn't something to be casual about. The previous night I was laying in bed and noticed I was wheezing. WHEEZING. It was terrifying, humbling, and sad all rolled together. 

That’s when my running adventures began. I came up with a plan to better my nutrition, better my exercise, better my life. I read about this thing called “running” and how people used it to get in shape. I remembered my days in high school football doing this “running” thing and how much I HATED it. Running was dumb. When I saw the crazies running during cross country practice while I was in my shoulder pads, I would laugh. “Who runs for fun!?” But they were all in good shape and seemed to truly enjoy what they were doing. There’s something to this. Let’s give it a shot, I’m willing to do whatever. 

At the time I didn’t have a treadmill, so you know what I did? I pounded laps around my parents unfinished, cobweb-ridden basement. They had just recently installed a pellet stove down there, so after my 2nd shift job I would go down, fire up the pellet stove, and literally jog around the basement. It was truly Rocky IV-esque, except, you know, in a basement in the United States. Eventually I purchased a treadmill, and it became my routine the remainder of that winter. Stop after work, do some running, repeat. Some days I’d stop BEFORE work to get a run in. Two-a-days, just like football practice. The distances started very small. A quarter mile was the first goal. Then a half mile. Then a mile. When I was able to run a full mile without stopping it was incredible. I was DOING IT. When it started warming up outside, it was time to try the road. Being able to see different scenery was much needed, and before too long I was running non-stop around the local 5k race route. What. A. Feeling. By my birthday in September I had lost close to 60 pounds. By Christmas I was approaching 90. Soon after the new year, I was at 100. From wheezing while I slept, to 100 pounds lighter with countless miles under my feet, I did the damn thing. And I LOVED it. Why didn’t I do this sooner? I should’ve joined cross country in high school! Hindsight, right? Besides, that wouldn’t have made for a good story!

I had always ran alone, but when I ran my first race in 2017, the Packers 5k, I had no idea how addicting that scene would be. All these people with numbered bibs, fancy shoes, computers on their wrists with endless data, the excitement, the nerves - this was awesome! The 5k distance eventually turned to 10k, which turned to half marathons. What else is there!? I often dreamt of running a full marathon. Mythical. Then I did. But…now what? In 2019 my friend from middle school, Justin, who equally hated running as much as I did, told me about this crazy thing called ULTRA running that he had been doing out west. You do it on trails. A lot of times in the woods. In the MOUNTAINS. You run far. Like, REALLY far. You stop at aid stations and eat bacon and boiled potatoes with salt and wash it down with flat Coke. WHAT!? How many miles is a 50k? You run at night? You run for a DAY? It sounded difficult and I was all about it. From that first trail race at Devil’s Lake, a modest 10K, trail running became my everything. It was beautiful, explorative, and challenging. The camaraderie in the trail running scene is second to none, and I’m so happy I was introduced to it. 

Which leads me to today. Longer distances, more elevation gain. What once seemed impossible has become the new norm. You can’t beat the rush. You learn about yourself. You visit the pain cave. The sense of accomplishment when you cross the finish line is indescribable. The emotion at the start line often becomes overwhelming. “How did I get here?” I don’t know, man, but you did. And it’s amazing.

Running saved my life.