Chris Owens, CFP®
July 15, 2025
Over the past decade, I’ve taken on a wide range of endurance challenges—from 5Ks and sprint triathlons to ultra marathons and full Ironman races. Each event has pushed my limits and, more importantly, taught me powerful life lessons. In this blog, I’ll share one of those lessons—and show you how it can transform the way you approach your personal finances.
The JFK 50 Mile Ultra Marathon isn’t just a race—it’s a rite of passage. Born in 1963 during President John F. Kennedy’s call for national fitness, it was one of many 50-mile challenges across the country. But when JFK was assassinated later that year, most of those events vanished. All except one.
In the rugged hills of Washington County, Maryland, the JFK 50 endured. Renamed the JFK 50 Mile Memorial in 1964, it has been held every year since, becoming the most iconic ultramarathon in the nation. It draws elite athletes from around the globe, all chasing glory on a course that’s as historic as it is brutal.
This isn’t your average footrace. The JFK 50 is an odyssey through mountains, riverside trails, and country roads. It begins in Boonsboro, Maryland, on the legendary Route 40—America’s first highway. The first 5.5 miles are a relentless climb to the top of South Mountain, gaining over 1,100 feet in elevation. Then comes the Appalachian Trail: 13 miles of jagged rock, narrow ridgelines, and ankle-breaking terrain. I spent that stretch with my eyes glued to the ground, dodging roots and rocks, watching a few others fall hard—bloodied, bruised, broken.
At mile 14.5, the trail plunges down a series of steep switchbacks, dropping over 1,000 feet to meet the C&O Canal towpath. This 26.3-mile stretch is flat but deceptive—an endless, soul-sapping corridor of dirt and gravel that tests your mental endurance more than your physical. And just when you think you’ve had enough, the final 8.5 miles rise and fall through rolling country roads.
In the summer of 2017, my running coach applied very light peer pressure and nudged me into signing up for the race during a casual group run. The starting line was practically in my backyard, and at that time I had four marathons under my belt. I figured, “Why not?” It’s just double the distance, right?
Race day—November 18th—greeted us with 40-degree temps and freezing rain. I ran up the mountain, along the ridgeline and then back down the mountain. The C&O canal portion was mind numbing. By mile 25, I was wrecked. My knees screamed. My ankles throbbed. Every step sent lightning bolt shocks through my legs. I was soaked, and mentally unraveling. Even my mouth hurt from choking down energy gels. I was done.
I made a deal with myself: just get to mile 30. My wife and kids were waiting there near Shepherdstown, West Virginia, with dry clothes and warm smiles. I’d tell them I gave it my best, climb into the car, and go home. That five-mile stretch felt like a death march.
As mile 29 slowly clicked into mile 30- I came around a bend and saw them patiently waiting for me.
Through the freezing rain, my son ran toward me. My wife handed me dry clothes. But I didn’t say a word about quitting. I don’t know why. I just hugged them, refueled, and turned back toward the trail.
“I’ll see you at the finish!” my wife shouted.
And something changed.
The pain faded. My legs moved again. I found a rhythm, a second wind. For the next 10 miles, I ran in disbelief—how could I feel this good after feeling so broken? The final stretch was a rollercoaster of emotion and exhaustion. But I kept going. Step by step. Mile by mile.
And I finished.
That day taught me something I’ll carry forever: no matter how far, how painful, or how impossible the journey feels—keep moving forward. The pain will end. The finish line is closer than you think. As my running coach always said: “Onward and upward.”
On April 2, 2025, President Trump declared it “Liberation Day,” unveiling a sweeping set of tariffs aimed at foreign competitors. The announcement sent shockwaves through global markets. Within days, the S&P 500 plunged over 12%, as investors scrambled to make sense of the potential for economic fallout.
It was a textbook market panic.
As illustrated in the graph above, by May 2—exactly one month later—the market had clawed its way back to pre-April levels. But for many investors, the damage had already been done. Not to their portfolios, necessarily—but to their confidence.
During that steep downturn, fear took the wheel. Some investors, rattled by the sudden drop, considered pulling out of the market entirely. It’s a natural reaction—when your life savings seem to be evaporating, the instinct is to stop the bleeding.
But here’s the catch: getting out is easy. Knowing when to get back in? That’s the real challenge.
History shows that average investors often wait too long to re-enter the market. By the time they feel “safe” again, the recovery is already well underway—and they’ve missed the rebound. In fact, missing just a few of the market’s best days can drastically reduce long-term returns. As I write this blog the S&P 500 just hit an all-time high. But we expect market volatility to return. The lesson? Volatility is part of the journey. Markets rise and fall, but those who stay the course, don’t drop out of the race, are often the ones who come out ahead. Reacting emotionally to short-term turbulence can turn a temporary dip into a permanent loss. No matter how far, how painful, or how impossible the journey feels—keep moving forward. The pain will end. So, the next time the headlines scream panic, remember: storms pass. And the market, like the tide, has a way of rising again.