Endurance sports saved lives. I’ve seen it, and I’ve lived it in some way. The structure, the discipline, the clean lifestyle—it gives people something powerful to hold onto. But beneath the inspiring stories and Instagram finish-line photos, there’s a truth we don’t talk about enough: the quiet intersection between endurance sports and addiction.
It may seem like these worlds are polar opposites. On one hand, you’ve got people waking up at 5 a.m. to train, fueling with green smoothies and beet juice, logging miles in the name of health. On the other, drug addiction—marked by chaos, secrecy, and destruction. But the connection is deeper and more complex than most people realize.
From Rock Bottom to Race Day
Many people come to endurance sports as part of their recovery. It’s not unusual to hear an Ironman athlete say, “Triathlon gave me back my life.” And I believe that. The goal-oriented nature of endurance racing is perfect for someone rebuilding themselves. Training provides the structure. The endorphins replace the chemical highs. The community replaces isolation. The purpose becomes a kind of medicine.
But here’s the thing: for those recovering from addiction, that same drive can turn dark if it’s not paired with inner healing. You swap one obsession for another—just one that’s socially celebrated instead of stigmatized.
I’ve worked with athletes in recovery. Some are thriving. Others are chasing workouts the same way they used to chase drugs—trying to outrun anxiety, shame, trauma, or just the silence inside.
Why Endurance Sports Appeal to Addictive Personalities
Endurance athletes and addicts actually share a lot in common:
• Obsessive drive
• High tolerance for discomfort
• Black-and-white thinking
• Tendency to isolate
• Intensity seeking
In a race, those traits are assets. In recovery, they can be landmines. When training becomes a crutch to avoid emotional healing, or when injury sends someone spiraling, the risk of relapse becomes very real.
Endurance sports don’t cure addiction. They can help. But only if paired with real, ongoing work—therapy, support groups, honesty, rest.
That’s what Part Two is about: turning sport from a shield into a source of real healing.
To a lesser extent I find myself eating cleaner and sleeping more when I’m training or have a goal in sight. Looking at a box of donuts and salivating then pausing to ask myself, ‘Will that enhance my training?’ Hard pass. Can’t say I’m addicted to sweets, but I eat a lot less when I’m training.
Good stuff Mark, I share many of your sentiments, thanks for being your true grounded self and an inspiration