When faced with adversity, I remind myself that regardless of what came before or what has yet to come, what matters most right now is how I choose to respond to the challenge before me. Will I lie down or will I fight? The choice is mine.

Don't compare yourself with anyone else. The world is full of runners, so you'll probably see one every time you circle the block or your favorite park. Some will be thinner than you, some smoother-striding, some faster. But don't let this get you down. There's only one runner who really counts: you. Running is your activity. Make it work for you, and don't worry about anyone else.

All top international athletes wake up in the morning feeling tired and go to bed feeling very tired. —Brendan Foster, British distance runner and former world record holder

I love this quote because it humanizes elite runners to everyday runners. People think that we are superhuman, but when I am in full training, I am tired ALL of the time.

That's one of the great pleasures of an ultramarathon. You can hurt more than you ever thought possible, then continue until you discover that hurting isn't that big a deal.

One does not simply do a victory lap when running a marathon.

Loving a runner means that there is no need to explain certain things. Like sweat being a prerequisite for a shower or why I want to go to bed at a decent hour on Friday night. Or why at certain times during the year I. Can't. Stop. Eating. Or why I keep a towel in my car at all times. Or why a vacation is even better when it involves a half marathon. Or why I care so much about running with my kids, or my dog. Or why the Turkey Trot is the only way to start Thanksgiving. Or why a sweaty, tangled ponytail is a sign of happiness, not bad hygiene. Or why I'm so close with my girlfriends. Or why I sometimes walk like a limping zombie and go downstairs sideways. Or why donning a Santa Hat and running the Jingle Bell run with the kids and me is the best time ever. Or why mud spattered calves are an aphrodisiac. Or why a black toenail is a sign of passion. Or why a road trip mandates a pair of running shoes at the ready, in case a trail appears out of nowhere and beckons my name. Or why I save paper bibs with numbers. Or why, when I'm mad, sometimes all I need to do is move. Or how you can resolve anything over enough miles together, even if you simply resolve to get a burger and a beer and call a truce.

Just like the only way to really know a place is to run through it, maybe the only way to really know someone is to run beside them...long enough to sweat off the pretense, long enough to get past small talk, long enough to get comfortable with silence, long enough to stink, long enough to know that the person running beside you is the someone you cannot run without.

Coming down that back stretch, I remembered this quote that goes 'come on kid, this is your dream.' I was just thinking about that at the end... My goal was to do my best, to max out and, in the end, have no regrets. I have no regrets today.

Make running a lifestyle. A daily habit, like brushing your teeth. If you run 300+ days a year, every year, for several years, good things will come your way. Start now. Doesn't matter if you are 16 years old or 66.

If you want to be a decent runner you must get out and run; the rest is just noise.

Get the running in first— that is the foundation. Then: Eat mostly good stuff. Get enough sleep. Stretch if you want to— or don't. Lift if you like lifting. Cross-train if it makes you happy. Wear minimalist shoes or big bulky ones, whichever you prefer. Listen to music when you run, or not. You can carry water with you on a long run, or you can go without. If you want to do a core routine, then do it— but first you must get out and run.

Run on trails, or streets, or on a treadmill, whatever works for you. Run slowly. Run quickly. Run up hills. Run in the rain. Run in the snow, the heat, the cold. Run into the wind. Run on the days that you do not feel like running. Run on the days that you can't wait to get out and run. Run with friends. Run alone. Run races. Run in the country. Run in the city. Run in parks. Run when you feel happy. Run when you are depressed. Run when you have a ton of energy. Run when you are feeling like shit. Run when you feel good. Run in the morning. Run at night. Run before work. Run after work. Run.

Always love the sport. Make sure you're always having fun with it. That's one thing that's been key to my running career. The moment you start to feel like it's not fun and you stop enjoying it that's a problem. That's what life's about. Always just make sure you have fun with it. At the end of the day that's what life is about, having fun.

And with each sprint, I strive to take as much pain as I can before I am forced to slow down.

It is not pain I seek. Pain is simply the symptom of lactic acid accumulating in my muscles, and I have to teach my body to handle lactic acid in races. You could as much say that I like lactic acid as suggest I like pain. 

Pain is to be used. At times, it warns me I am doing something wrong. At other times, it signals I am doing right.

If I am driving for the finish of a race and there is no pain, I know I have not yet pushed my body to its absolute limit. On the other hand, there is pain that commands to go this fast and no faster.

The runner is not a masochist. The runner does not enjoy pain. But between the runner and a personal best lies pain in quantity, both in training and in the race. And the pain, once endured, comes to have a value of its own. I do not seek suffering, but once it has been experienced, I feel somehow the better for it.

I'm really resistant to this focus we have on speed. If you do a 3:59 marathon you're awesome, but if you do four hours, you suck. Humans are not fast, we are not speed creatures.

The number of miles I have run since I was a toddler would have taken me around the world several times, and I still cannot define precisely my joy in running. There is no sacrifice in it. I lead what I regard a normal life. In my case, I thoroughly enjoy running 100-odd miles a week. If I didn't I wouldn't do it. Who can define happiness? To some, happiness is a warm puppy or a glass of cold beer. To me, happiness is running in the hills with my mates around me.

It's very hard in the beginning to understand that the whole idea is not to beat the other runners. Eventually you learn that the competition is against the little voice inside you that wants you to quit.

Ironman. It's not about metal. It's about mettle.

You don't stop running because you get old. You get old because you stop running.

It amazes me how little time people spend on mental training. 30K into a marathon on race day is too late to figure out that you need to train your brain. There are many different tools you can use. Have a bank of positive images and songs. It doesn't have to be related to sport at all. That way, when the going gets tough--and it will get tough--you can draw on those images and have peace of mind.

I have some mantras that I write on my water bottle and wristband when I race. One is 'smile,' and another is 'never give up.' There's a poem I write on my water bottle--Rudyard Kipling's 'If.' It encapsulates everything you need to do to be a good athlete, especially the mental side of the game. 'If you can keep your head when all about you/Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;/If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,/But make allowance for their doubting too...'

It's all about keeping calm under pressure and knowing that triumph and disaster are one and the same thing. You can win or lose, and often losing can be just as much of a learning experience as the victory can. Someone said to me in an interview the other day, 'You've never lost an Ironman; what would it feel like to lose?' And I think, is coming in second losing or is it coming in second? It's changing the concept of success and failure, triumph and disaster.

Just years ago, runners had valid reasons for skipping runs during the winter. It was too cold, too dark, too forbidding. While winters are still cold and dark, those excuses have melted away with the advent of apparel that keeps us warm and dry in subzero temps, headlamps that light our way through the gloom, and affordable treadmills for the days you have to stay inside.

Brick walls are there for a reason. They let us prove how badly we want things.

Consistency requires discipline. Force yourself out the door. It is easy to take a day off when things get hectic. A day or two off here and there won't hurt, but skipping workouts too often will. To succeed as a competitive runner, you need to be a little compulsive about getting in your daily run. If possible, schedule runs for the same time every day; make it an important appointment with yourself. Set weekly goals, and stick with them.

The primary logistical barrier to exercise is time. Lack of time is the most commonly cited excuse for not exercising. But surveys suggest that those who exercise regularly are just as busy with their jobs, families, and other responsibilities as those who don't work out. So the time excuse is just that: an excuse. We're all pressed for time, yet we all have time for our highest priorities. If exercise is important to you, you will find the time to do it.