On Turning 50: Stronger Than Ever

Originally published in Modern Women on Medium.

I traded striving for thriving — and everything changed

Turning 50 is different from turning 40, which was different from turning 30.

I don’t remember turning 30. There was no mind drama. I was a working mother and the day came and went. I’m sure we celebrated. I probably gave entering my 30s a passing thought — after all, that is what we do as we mark the beginning of another decade — but then moved on with my busy life.

I do remember turning 40. The day began with an early morning swim, where I chatted with a friend who had just hosted a 4th of July party the weekend before. She’s one of those magical connector types Malcolm Gladwell writes about — a published author, Emmy-winning producer, and a regular at the gym. That day, she could tell I was struggling. Maybe I said it out loud, maybe she just knew.

Later that day, something unexpected happened — my inbox started overflowing with messages of encouragement. Reflections on turning 40, heartfelt notes about the beauty of aging, and warm, uplifting words poured in. Unbeknownst to me, my friend had reached out to her writing community — the very group I’d met just days earlier at the party — and asked them to share some light on a day that had felt heavy for no real reason. I was moved by the generosity of these near-strangers and their willingness to lift me up. It remains one of the kindest, most thoughtful gestures she’s ever made.

Turning 50 came with focus and clarity that surprised me.

I am not anxious or apprehensive. I don’t feel like my best years have passed, or that my body is in decline. Quite the opposite — as I approached my birthday, I wanted to celebrate in a way that felt bold and alive. I had requirements — I wanted to ring in my fifth decade by incorporating the number 50 with a physical activity of some sort.

After tossing around countless ideas with my ever-game training partner — who is always ready to register for any race, any time — I landed on a 50k trail race. In case you’re not familiar with that distance (I wasn’t), it’s an ultra-marathon: 31 miles.

I’ve run three marathons in my life, the most recent over 15 years ago. Trail races are a different animal — roots, rocks, uneven terrain. They demand focus, strength and determination. Interestingly, up until this time, a half-marathon trail race had always felt impossible. Now I was taking on the ultra-marathon distance.

Training for a 50k required long training days. Along the way we dedicated a morning to run Washington, DC, which allowed us to capture our experience in front of the monuments. Another time we opted to run the trail around Baltimore Washington International Airport. I felt like a kid as planes took off and landed over our heads. It was fun. And hard.

I wasn’t nervous about race day — maybe a little too calm. An hour into our five-hour road trip, I realized I’d forgotten my wallet. Not exactly how I imagined starting the weekend, but not a huge deal either. Then, just minutes into the race, it hit me: I’d forgotten to eat breakfast. Not exactly a textbook approach to an ultra-marathon.

I felt myself want to panic but then I had to laugh. Since when do I forget to eat breakfast? And who signs up for a 31-mile trail race and forgets the two most basic things — money and food? Apparently me. But here’s one of the biggest shifts I am starting to realize — a quiet confidence in my ability to handle whatever comes, even when the conditions aren’t perfect.

This past weekend, I did it. I ran 50k.

Crossing the finish line was electric. Not because of the distance, but because it shifted what I believed was possible for me. I know that I am as capable as ever and am even more curious about what this next decade might hold.

This is what 50 looks like. Stronger than ever — physically, mentally, and emotionally.

Wherever you are in your life — whether you’re entering a new decade, navigating a transition, or just feeling stuck — I encourage you to pause to consider what might be possible for you.

Don’t let age or assumptions based on the past be the reason you say no to yourself.

With clarity, intention, and preparation, you can do things that feel out of reach. Things that light you up. Things that prove to you — you’re still becoming.

My invitation to you: Get curious. Start small. Dream a little bigger.

Go get your version of the 50k.

You’re not done yet. Not even close.