Failure
I’ve been thinking a lot recently about failure.
At the end of June 2025, I intently followed two incredible forays in the mountains. The first was an attempt at a fastest known time on the mighty Appalachian Trail; the second was the annual Western States Endurance Run, a 100-mile jaunt through the Sierra Nevada and, perhaps, North America’s premier ultramarathon.
Attempting to finish either endeavor, without the added pressure of lofty goals, is audacious. This year, two individuals attempted to push human boundaries at these institutions in a very public manner.
Oak Ridge, Tennessee, native John Kelly didn’t take up serious running until his late 20s. A lifelong love of mountains and a newfound interest in long races led Kelly to the world of trail ultramarathons, where he uncovered an innate, elite ability to run long and hard on some of the world’s toughest courses.
In 2017, at 32, he became just the 15th finisher of the notorious Barkley Marathons. This race is a wicked cauldron, as tough on the mind as it is on the body. In many years, no one has completed the required five laps in the Tennessee mountains before the cutoff time. Kelly had failed in 2015 and 2016, but squeaked in under 2017’s deadline in 59 hours, 30 minutes, and 53 seconds. In the race’s 30-year history, just 20 people have successfully navigated the course in time, a total of 26 times.
Kelly is one of two humans to have done so three times.
He has won a slew of ultramarathons and has many fastest known times to his name, some on trails hundreds of miles long.
When he announced he would attempt to break the record for completing the Appalachian Trail, it was a bold move, but one he was certainly capable of undertaking.
Like Kelly, David Roche began to excel at racing later in life relative to many world-class athletes.
A long-time coach to many top-level competitors (including Kelly and Woman Crush Wednesday Hall of Famer Tara Dower), Roche decided to give himself a chance at some of the toughest ultramarathons.
At 36, he won the prestigious Leadville Trail 100, a romp through Colorado’s Rocky Mountains. When he crossed the finish line, he had smashed the course record that had stood for 19 years, shaving an incredible 16 minutes off the previous mark.
It was his first 100-mile race.
Many who follow the running world were stunned. How had this guy emerged, seemingly from nowhere, to such a debut? Some labeled the achievement as beginner’s luck, although the idea of fortune dictating a 100-mile race seems to strain credibility. Roche backed up the hype with a victory at the Javelina Jundred, a punishing century through the Arizona desert.
After these wins, he qualified for the Western States, which many consider the Super Bowl of ultramarathons.
A late-blooming phenom would be a lock to become a fan favorite in most sporting endeavors, but Roche is a divisive figure to fans of ultras. This next statement might seem farcical, but the reason for his love-or-hate reputation is a nice microcosm of modern America (or perhaps modern humanity). Why would anyone dislike a success story like Roche?
Firstly, he had the temerity to set a goal of not just completing or doing well at Western States, but of winning the race.
Second, he proclaimed this aim publicly, adding that he thought he could win it, despite his lack of racing pedigree. To the doubters, this idea seemed closer to fantastical boasting or an outright sin than something achievable. The best in the world gather at Western States, and it’s hardly ever won by a rookie. How could this person with just two hundreds to his name – albeit with impressive results – think he could legitimately win the biggest of them all? To these people, Babe Ruth calling his shot this was not.
Even if many of the best runners internally believed they had a chance to win the big one, they did not broadcast that notion to the world at large. Why did Roche take such a route? Number three on the hater list relates to his methodology: Roche leans heavily on the science of sport. He places the credit for much of his success on crunching data and revolutionizing fueling during long races. Listening to him, he does not view himself as an elite athlete, but a very good one who happens to understand that ingesting copious calories during ultramarathons is the key to unlocking one’s potential. Many endurance athletes, cyclists in particular, have begun to push the human intestinal tract’s ability to intake energy during activity. The more carbs you can stomach during a race, the longer your muscles can resist fatigue. The famous bonks that cripple long-distance runners can be avoided by eating a lot. Though cyclists and many runners have embraced this new idea, they keep their regimens secret, the proprietary leg-up on the competition. Roche takes the opposite tack. He wants to push collective human limits. He doesn’t want to win a few races by training his gastrointestinal tract to be a little better than other runners; he wants the royal-we to learn to progress through science. Thus, he pledged to make his training, both running and eating, transparent. Could a great-but-not-all-time-legend runner win the biggest prize by following the science? He thought, on a good day, the answer was yes. And he didn’t want to keep that to himself.
The cynic might wonder why he didn’t want to hoard an advantage. Hater point number four: David Roche is devoted to positivity. If you can imagine the most supportive person you know, raise their values by 50% and you might approximate the positivity of David Roche. He’s the guy who tells the last-place runner in his races that they’re doing an awesome job as he laps them for the second time. And he means it. During filming for his series on Western States training, he constantly told the man behind the camera that he loved him. He applauds runners on their journeys, no matter their skill, as if they were setting world records. He and his wife, Megan, who is also his coaching partner, have an exceedingly buoyant relationship, full of effusive praise and belief.
Roche is so positive that many people believe it must be an act for the cameras. Or he is so saccharine that it overloads their ability to handle it. Many people loathe how nice David Roche is. They label his demeanor as “toxic positivity.”
I get it. He emotes in real life every day like a theater kid. At many points in my life, I would have shuddered at consuming his style. Interacting with a mix of Bob Ross and Elmo can be tiring or psychically sickening. But, as I’ve aged, I’ve discovered this reaction was a stain in my soul, burdened with darkness. It’s hard to be around people spreading happiness when you’re saddled with yuck. Of course, if the positivity is fake, that’s another matter. But, if you watch the video series Roche produced leading up to Western States, it’s not hard to realize he actually is positive. Does it go a little harder in the direction of Barney’s theme song than I might employ? Sure, but it’s not ersatz glow.
I believe this type of cheerful personality is hard for the world to accept these days. So many charlatans. And so many of us are riddled with yuck that we can’t see how someone could be Mister Rogers all the time in 2025. Many people would rather Roche be a faker than the real deal.
And, so, as Western States approached, he garnered an impressive number of online warriors who hoped he would fail spectacularly. This nice guy thinks he’s gonna win? I’ll have nothing of it! It was gross, but not altogether unsurprising.
John Kelly, on the other hand, seems to engender universal praise.
A little more than a year ago, Tara Dower set the fastest known time on the Appalachian Trail. She became one of Kelly’s biggest cheerleaders. It’s hard to root against someone who makes the record attempt a secondary portion of the project, as Kelly’s main goal was to raise money for the portions of the Appalachians that were devastated by Hurricane Helene. Raised in the Tennessee mountains, running through areas that were, in his words, “clear-cut” by the monster storm had a particularly special significance to Kelly.
Against this backdrop, he set off from Springer Mountain in Georgia, intending to reach Katahdin in Maine in about 40 days.
Kelly describes himself as neither the fastest runner nor the best climber, but rather very good in nearly all distance running attributes. As evidenced by his success at Barkley, perhaps his most important trait is the ability to suffer and persist. This combination seems particularly suited to the onslaught of the Appalachian Trail at speed.
And off he went. Traveling upwards of 55 miles a day with more than 9,000 feet of climbing, he slept about four hours a night and consumed approximately 10,000 calories every 24 hours. He powered ahead of the record pace, buzzing through the Smoky Mountains, the Mid-Atlantic, and into the beastly crags of New England. By the time he reached New Hampshire’s White Mountains, he was 18 hours ahead of record pace.
Along the way, data scientists tracked his body vitals, and his sponsor made a fantastic trail documentary.
Dower and Roche appeared in Episode 5 of the series, adding insight and context to Kelly’s onslaught.
Just as he commented on Kelly’s foray into New Hampshire, David Roche was in California gearing up for the start of the Western States Endurance Run. He seemed healthy and dialed in.
Roche led a stacked pack of runners up the race’s first and most arduous climb, then remained in the lead or near the lead for the next several hours. He ran alongside one of his idols, Kilian Jornet, widely considered the greatest trail runner of all time. He stuck to his fueling strategy and looked to be in a great position as the top runners reached the halfway point.
Kelly, nearly 90% of the way through the AT, and Roche, in a wonderful spot at Western’s midway point, both looked poised to capitalize on their hard work.
Then, suddenly, their dreams evaporated, nearly simultaneously, though a continent apart.
On Mt. Washington, Kelly developed an odd ankle injury. Although not worryingly painful, he described his brain sending instructions to his ankle to move, but nothing happened. Without the ability to flex this crucial climbing part, he took an early day, hoping a big night of sleep might miraculously cure the ailment. He still had some time to spare, so it was worth the shot.
As Western States unfurled, Kelly awoke to see his ankle stubbornly refusing to obey orders. He could still walk and climb, but his pace was debilitated. Further, doctors worried he might develop a condition called compartment syndrome, a nasty problem that can lead to muscle death.
Devastated, he abandoned his attempt at the record.
Meanwhile, as David Roche seemed outwardly to be executing a wonderful race, he was battling internal issues. At some point, his vision became blurry. This condition is not rare in the endurance world. It is obviously concerning, but it also often passes with no long-lasting damage. Roche’s vision returned, but his mind began to spiral. He described thinking about his two young children and worrying that his body was spiraling into rhabdomyolysis, a severe problem where damaged muscle breaks down and is released into the bloodstream, which can lead to kidney failure. What if he died in the pursuit of this goal, leaving his children without a father? He began to have a panic attack.
His speed plummeted. He dropped from third at 53 miles to eighth at 62. He relayed his issues to his crew, including his wife, a medical doctor, and received an examination. He exhibited no signs of rhabdo. Roche was set to run with a pacer for the next section, a crew member who is also a doctor. Though they set out from the aid station after convincing him to give it a shot, they had to stop shortly thereafter to do breathing exercises as the panic attacks resumed. Although he was in great physical condition, Roche walked back to the last station and dropped out of the race.
Both had failed to realize their grandiose, public goals.
They were both consumed with sadness and more. Kelly’s demeanor, as he realizes his dream is over on the precipice of success, teeters toward depressive exhaustion. Roche looked bedraggled and later described a mix of despair and shame.
In Roche’s case, the haters emerged in droves, reveling in another’s anguish.
It was difficult to watch. Their testimonies were difficult to hear. We gather energy when our rooting interests excel, but their failures can also inflict empathetic pain. Denied dreams are crushing occurrences. I can’t imagine dealing with such a letdown on a public stage. Additionally, the two believed they had let down the dozens of people on their teams. There’s one runner, but the crews are massive, and the helpers pour their energies into the task, too.
And yet failure is key to progression and success.
In one of his daily video logs, Kelly asked what good an achievement was if its success was guaranteed. The risk of failure must accompany any great task. And we mere mortals must, invariably, know failure to know success.
This insight is often difficult to accept or even understand. The nature of failure is often non-linear or obscure. A victory might be presaged with a bevy of failures that have nothing strictly to do with the success. Long-term sporting goals, for example, might bring along mental or relationship failures that seemingly have nothing to do with the goal. It’s easy to be bogged down by failures; they are more numerous, embarrassing, and difficult to overcome.
Still, a success would be nothing without them.
The trolls came out for David Roche, and even for John Kelly. In a video about his recovery, the beloved figure mentioned that he receives messages and comments questioning why he bothers to try difficult objectives. See what happens when you go too fast on the trail? Citing Roche, he attempts to respond with kindness and positivity.
In another video from the AT, Kelly chimed in on why he bothers with dangerous or difficult activities. In the mountains, the question is as old as time: why climb? We’ve tackled the issue before, but Kelly gave a beautiful answer I had not been able to put into words before. He asserted that in a privileged life without real adversity, attempting arduous tasks and pushing limits is a great way to be ready for future adversity. He believes the things he learns about himself in the hardest environments – even if those environments are frivolous – will allow him to help others when real danger or need arises. That reasoning resonated with me.
And failing on grand projects with the world watching will likely make Kelly and Roche stronger people. David, keeping with his transparent milieu, has already spoken candidly about the mental struggles that led to his issues during Western States. It’s not at all easy to expose oneself in this way, but it will certainly help others who can see themselves in his situation.
Kelly raised over $65,000 for those affected by Hurricane Helene. Can we even call his run a failure? Likely, Roche will continue pounding mountain trails, telling everyone he sees how awesome they are for being out there. Hopefully, Kelly will return to Barkley and, maybe one day, the Appalachian Trail. They both seem committed to dreaming grandly again.
A failure is only really a failure if we fail to find the next trail. And their next success will unlock something greater thanks to the previous shortcomings.
Now, if I can just get myself to believe that!
Further Reading and Exploration
Random Forest Runner – John Kelly’s Official Website
Some Work, All Play – David Roche’s Official Website
A 2,200-Mile Lesson in Human Limits: John Kelly’s Unfinished Masterpiece on the Appalachian Trail – Coros
John Kelly Appalachian Trail FKT Attempt – La Sportiva Documentary Series
Road to Western States – David Roche Documentary Series
