{"id":794402,"date":"2026-10-07T03:28:09","date_gmt":"2026-10-07T03:28:09","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/uk\/794402\/"},"modified":"2026-10-07T03:28:09","modified_gmt":"2026-10-07T03:28:09","slug":"im-54-and-still-getting-stronger-heres-how-i-balance-strength-running-and-recovery","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/uk\/794402\/","title":{"rendered":"‘I’m 54 and still getting stronger \u2013 here’s how I balance strength, running and recovery’"},"content":{"rendered":"

Being active wasn’t just something I loved growing up \u2013 it was my escape.<\/p>\n

I grew up poor in an unstable household, watching my father use his strength to exert power over my mother. Early on, I had to decide what strength would mean in my own life, and I found it through sport.<\/p>\n

Running<\/a> became my constant. I was naturally fast, but more importantly, I loved how it made me feel. It gave me freedom and taught me that even when I couldn’t control my circumstances, I could always control the effort I put in.<\/p>\n

Then, when I was 19, I was hit by a car while riding my motorcycle, crushing my foot between the two vehicles. After countless surgeries over the next two years, I ultimately had my left leg amputated below the knee at 21.<\/p>\n

The accident changed everything. I suddenly had to learn how to live in a new body while rebuilding the life I wanted. My world had been turned upside down, but I knew I had to shift my mindset from focusing on what I’d lost to what I could still do.<\/p>\n

Once I was cleared to start walking again, I taught myself how to move with a prosthetic leg. (I wasn’t able to work with a physical therapist on a structured rehabilitation programme.) Over the following months, I gradually increased my walking distance while rebuilding my stamina, stability and coordination.<\/p>\n

I kept trying to run. It felt painful, unfamiliar and exhausting, but I continued showing up. Eventually, I was able to run further and further.<\/p>\n

For the next several years, I ran almost every day. Running became a source of peace, giving me clarity and stability. Then, at 32, I decided to push myself further.<\/p>\n

I trained myself for my first half marathon<\/a> by steadily increasing my mileage and finished second in my age group. From there, I progressed to full marathons<\/a> and triathlons<\/a>, eventually setting below-knee amputee records at both the 2006 Columbus and Chicago Marathons. Two years later, I completed my first 100-mile ultramarathon.<\/p>\n

Over the past 18 years, I’ve raced countless times, but collecting medals has never been the goal.<\/p>\n

Instead, my aim has always been to become a better athlete than I was yesterday \u2013 stronger, smarter and more capable.<\/p>\n

Along the way, sport has transformed far more than my fitness. It shapes how I parent, how I work, how I support other people and how I respond when life becomes difficult. It has also given me an outlet for stress, along with a sense of purpose and confidence.<\/p>\n

Showing up, even on the days I don’t feel like it, has taught me that small, consistent efforts really do add up. <\/p>\n

How I train at 54<\/p>\n

Over the past year, I trained for the Ultra-Trail du Mont-Blanc (UTMB) World Series, an ultramarathon through the Alps that runners have 46 hours and 30 minutes to complete. I’d attempted it three times before, but each time I came up short. This year, I went back stronger and more determined than ever.<\/p>\n

To prepare, I focused on building both strength and endurance with my coach, Evan Amendola<\/a>, at OG Training Academy<\/a>, a group training club in Lindenhurst, New York.<\/p>\n

For most of my life, I’d trained alone, but this time I wanted a programme tailored to my goals. I also wanted someone who could safely push me beyond my comfort zone while helping me build strength and endurance in a smart, sustainable way.<\/p>\n

Here’s what a typical training week looked like:<\/p>\n

Saturday: Full-body strength<\/a> and conditioning, followed by five hours of hill repeats near my house to accumulate around 5,000ft of elevation.Sunday: Core and conditioning<\/a>, followed by an 8-12 mile run.Monday: Lower-body strength<\/a> and conditioning.Tuesday: Push-focused strength training, followed by an easy 5k run.Wednesday: Two high-intensity endurance running sessions.Thursday: Lower-body strength training.Friday: Chest and upper-body strength training.<\/p>\n

I approached every workout, set and rep with the same mentality: move forwards.<\/p>\n

I didn’t expect every session to be a breakthrough, but I wanted each one to make me a little better than the last. Evan always brought it back to one question: ‘Do you really want to stay the same?’<\/p>\n

Difficulty isn’t always a sign to stop \u2013 sometimes it’s exactly where I discover what I’m capable of.<\/p>\n

Recovery was just as important as training.<\/p>\n

I stretched every day and completed at least one myofascial release session each week, a hands-on therapy that uses targeted pressure to release tension in the muscles. I also paid close attention to my nutrition, focusing on whole foods rich in protein<\/a> and carbohydrates. Lean meats, rice, sweet potatoes and oatmeal became staples. <\/p>\n

Unfortunately, I didn’t cross the finish line at UTMB because of an issue with my prosthetic. After 91 miles and 39 hours, my race came to an end.<\/p>\n

That hurt. I hadn’t travelled across the world just to see how far I could get \u2013 I’d gone there to finish.<\/p>\n

But the experience also showed me how well my training had prepared me and gave me valuable insight into what I need to improve before I return next year.<\/p>\n

3 lessons ultrarunning has taught me1. Surround yourself with people who’ll go the distance with you<\/p>\n

For most of my life, I trained alone. I taught myself how to walk and run with a prosthetic, built my own training plans and coached myself through every setback.<\/p>\n

Now, I’ve found my people in Coach Evan, my family and the crews who’ve stood beside me when I’ve had almost nothing left.<\/p>\n

I don’t need people who look at something difficult or different and ask, ‘Why would you do that?’<\/p>\n

I need people willing to ask, ‘Why not?’<\/p>\n

They challenge me, believe in me when I’m struggling to believe in myself and help me find another way forwards when my original plan falls apart.<\/p>\n

2. Break big goals into smaller ones<\/p>\n

After my accident, I had to learn to stand before I could walk, walk before I could run and run before I could race.<\/p>\n

I still approach huge goals in exactly the same way.<\/p>\n

During a Spartan Death Race in Vermont in 2019, I had to lead exhausted competitors through 3,000 synchronised burpees after more than 40 hours in the wilderness. Later, I spent around 12 hours crawling beneath razor-sharp barbed wire with one leg.<\/p>\n

I learned to stop thinking about the whole race and simply focus on the next burpee, the next crawl or the next step.<\/p>\n

Whether I’m facing 250 miles, 30,000ft of elevation or simply a difficult training session, I don’t need to know exactly how I’ll reach the finish.<\/p>\n

I just need to focus on what’s directly in front of me.<\/p>\n

3. I don’t let failure stop me \u2013 I adapt<\/p>\n

Failure hurts. Injury hurts. Watching something you’ve worked so hard for disappear hurts.<\/p>\n

But whenever I fail, I learn from it, change what I can and get back to work.<\/p>\n

I’ve learned that progress is rarely linear. I’ve had races I didn’t finish, goals that took longer than expected and times when my body forced me to change the way I trained.<\/p>\n

Each setback has taught me something \u2013 whether that’s the importance of recovery, adjusting my training or simply being more patient with the process.<\/p>\n

Rather than seeing those moments as proof that I can’t do something, I see them as opportunities to learn and adapt.<\/p>\n

After falling short at UTMB this year, for example, I used the experience to identify what I could control, adjust my preparation and come back better equipped for my next attempt in 2027.<\/p>\n

For me, strength isn’t about never failing or always performing at my best.<\/p>\n

It’s about being willing to start again, change course when necessary and keep discovering what I’m capable of.<\/p>\n

Strength is protecting the little girl I was before the world told her what she couldn’t be, while fighting for the woman I haven’t become yet.<\/p>\n

I will fail. I will get hurt. I will adapt.<\/p>\n

But I’ll never let any of it dim the light inside me.<\/p>\n

\"Headshot<\/p>\n

Andi Breitowich is a freelance writer who covers health, fitness, relationships, beauty, and smart living. She is a graduate of Emory University and Northwestern University’s Medill School of Journalism. Her work has appeared in\u00a0Women’s Health,\u00a0POPSUGAR,\u00a0Food & Wine,\u00a0What To Expect,\u00a0Cosmopolitan,\u00a0Men’s Health, and elsewhere.\u00a0As a\u00a0former collegiate pole vaulter, she loves all things fitness and has yet to meet a group workout class she doesn’t like.<\/p>\n