The Hardest Marathon Wasn’t Physical. It Was Asking for Help.
Lachlan Stuart reflecting deeply after his marathon
Day 17 in Brattleboro, Vermont broke me wide open.
The air was razor-sharp cold, and halfway through the marathon, things started to unravel fast. I felt dizzy. Light-headed. I realised I’d forgotten my water and electrolytes back at the van. This wasn’t a "push through" moment. It was dangerous.
My first instinct kicked in hard: Tough it out. Fix it yourself. Don’t bother anyone.
That’s how I was raised, how I built my life. If you want something done well, do it yourself. I prided myself on my work ethic, on rolling up my sleeves and carrying the weight without asking for help. I thought it was noble. I thought it was strength.
But that day, standing on the side of an empty road, body failing and mind spinning, I saw the truth:
I wasn’t being strong. I was sabotaging myself.
With a deep breath (and a punch to my ego), I pulled out my phone and called Etienne. I asked him to meet me with water, electrolytes, and something warm to eat.
The second I hung up, a wave of relief hit me. Not just physical… emotional.
I knew I’d made the right move. I was struggling, and this time, I chose to let someone in.
Even though I still felt physically horrible, there was a deep sense of pride too.
I only had to make it back to the checkpoint help was waiting for me.
The Lie of Strength We All Swallow
We tell ourselves that strength is independence.
We tell ourselves that asking for help makes us weak, a burden, a failure.
But strength is not isolation.
Strength is knowing when to lower the shield and let someone stand beside you.
Running 58 marathons across America and Australia ripped away every illusion I had about who I needed to be to feel worthy.
Out there, mile after mile, in freezing temperatures and brutal loneliness, I met every dark thought I’d spent years outrunning.
The loudest one was always:
"I’m not worthy."
Not worthy unless I achieved more.
Not worthy unless I suffered alone.
Not worthy unless I proved myself, again and again and again.
But here’s what I realised as the miles tore down my ego:
The people who truly matter they don’t love you because of what you achieve.
They love you because of who you are when no one else is watching.
I’ve made mistakes. Big ones. I’ve hurt people. I’ve lifted people. I’ve built things I’m proud of. I’ve lost things I thought I couldn’t live without.
Yet none of those isolated moments define me.
What defines me is my willingness to keep showing up real, raw, imperfect, and open.
The Moment Everything Changed
That day in Vermont taught me something I will never forget:
I am worthy of everything I currently have.
I am worthy of everything I desire.
Not because I am perfect.
Not because I can do it all alone.
But because I am willing to be vulnerable, to ask for help, and to choose connection over isolation.
Where Are You Still Running Alone?
Where in your life are you still running alone, convinced that vulnerability makes you less?
Maybe the strongest move you could make today is not to push harder, grind more, or wear your suffering like a badge.
Maybe it’s to ask:
"What is it costing me to keep doing this alone?"
Because that’s what changed everything for me. I realised that by clinging to my pride, I was risking the success of my entire mission and ruining myself in the process.
Your Move
Take five minutes.
Write it down:
What is doing it all alone costing you?
What’s one action step you could take today to allow support in?
Maybe it’s a conversation you’ve been avoiding.
Maybe it’s messaging someone.
Maybe it’s finally accepting that you’re not meant to carry every burden yourself.
And if you’re ready to not just survive but actually build a stronger, more resilient version of yourself Coached By You is here to walk that road with you. Or take the Free Life Performance Scorecard to see where you are now!
Because you don’t need to do this life alone.
And maybe, deep down, you never actually wanted to.
Lachlan Stuart walking in brattleborro