AUBURN, CALIF. — The 2025 Canyons Endurance Runs by UTMB turned the Sierra foothills into a stage for grit and determination, as hundreds of runners pushed through brutal climbs and descents in pursuit of personal breakthroughs.

Aroa Sio and Tom Sullivan fought through every mile of the 100, crossing the line in two incredible 2nd places. Júpiter battled hard for 7th in a fierce 100K. Grant gave it everything he had — sometimes courage looks like knowing when to stop. And Tommy Rivs ran the 25K with pure joy, back where he loves to be.

For Tommy Sullivan, this wasn’t just another race. It was his first time attempting the 100-mile distance, and a major step forward in a journey that began with a single 30K not long ago. Read Tom's own words about the race:

“A few weeks ago I got to try something new. Running one hundred miles!”

Initial reactions revolved around the resilience of the human spirit. The amazing community around me and how insanely lucky I am to be one of many in orbit of our sport. There is a resounding truth — an unmistakable feeling of belonging.

Time passes. Swelling has gone. Dust has settled. Energy levels are returning with cognitive function in tow. Canyons 100 miler in the rear view. Where do we go from here? I wonder.

One thing I learned from my first 100 miler is that there is only one place to go next. Only one real choice we ever have — It’s what to do in the present moment.

I was alone for most of the race. I took the lead thirty miles in and kept it until seven miles to go. I led for as long as I had ever run before. In the silence of those miles the mind can wander.

“What’s next? Am I going to win this thing? Sh*t I got passed, do I sit down and give up?”

The reason things were going so well in the first place is that for the majority of sixteen hours and twenty-four minutes of running, I was focusing on what to do in that instant. The task in front of me.

“What’s the next step?”

‘Left foot,’ the body replied.

“What’s next?”

‘Right foot. Eat sugar.’

“And now?”

‘Stay on the gas.’

“I don’t think I can.”

‘Shhhhh. You will.’

I have a tendency to overthink things. Just ask my wife, Emkay. The beauty in running, and running far, is that eventually you learn to not sweat the little things. You can’t. You don’t have the energy to worry. With limited energy, the key is to spend it intentionally.

“My legs really hurt. What do I do?”

‘Eat. Drink. Run.’

On race day, I practiced a few simple but powerful things: believing in myself, trying new, hard things, focusing on what I can control, and finding that my limits exist far beyond where I once believed.

We never master these things — we practice, recalibrate, and grow.

Belief requires maintenance.

Focus requires check-ins.

Evolution requires adaptation.

Humanity requires adversity.