How I Transformed My Workout to Build Full-Body Strength While Crushing 40 Miles a Week—Here’s My Secret Routine
Ever wonder what it takes to not just participate in sports—but to absolutely crush them, even when life serves you a curveball? Imagine being born missing your left arm below the elbow and turning that reality into a launchpad for athletic triumphs that defy expectations. That’s exactly the journey I’m diving into here—a story packed with grit, guts, and a relentless drive that pushes through every challenge. From swimming in Olympic Trials to tackling Ironman triathlons, and now gearing up for a Boston Marathon debut at 34, this isn’t just about racing—it’s about redefining what “capable” really means. Ready to see how adaptation, community, and mindset fuel this unstoppable athletic spirit? Let’s dive in. LEARN MORE
I was born missing my left arm below the elbow. Growing up, participating in athletics became one of the ways I learned what I was capable of.
As a kid, I played just about every sport. By the time I reached high school, I was swimming competitively, and my experience solidified my confidence in my abilities as an athlete. By my junior year, I even qualified to attend the Olympic Trials for the 2008 Beijing Games. I didn’t make the team, but the experience gave me a glimpse of elite athletics and taught me that I could do anything I put my mind to.
In college, I stepped away from swimming, but after graduating, I missed competing, so I signed up for a half-marathon on a whim. I had zero experience with running, and the training process was tough. But I fell in love with the discipline and routine that came with the preparation process. Finishing my first half-marathon made me incredibly proud, but it also made me wonder how much further I could push myself. With a background in swimming and a new appreciation for running, I felt called to complete my next big challenge: an Ironman, which calls for a 2.4-mile swim, 112-mile bike ride, and a 26.2-mile run.
I trained for the Ironman for about five months—and the process pushed me in every possible way. I’d already had experience with swimming, running, and some recreational biking, so I focused on building up my endurance even more, dialing in my technique across all three disciplines, and preparing mentally for the distance. To set myself up for success, I modified my bike so the brakes were only on the right side, making it easier to control my speed with one hand. I had limited open-water swimming experience, so I also spent extra time practicing in a lake to adapt to waves and current.
Crossing the finish line of my first Ironman was one of the most empowering moments of my life—and a true testament to my strength, grit, and ability. I felt stronger and more confident than ever, and in that moment, I knew endurance racing was where I felt most capable and challenged—and I didn’t want to stop feeling like that.
Seven years later, I’ve since completed 12 half-marathons, three full marathons, and three Ironmans…and I still want to see just how far I can go.
Now, at 34, I’m training for my Boston Marathon debut this April.
In the past, I’ve worked with a running coach to structure my training, but this time around, I’ve partnered with the Runna app to create my training plan. I run six days a week, covering roughly 35 to 40 miles with a run that includes hill repeats, three easy runs (covering 5 to 7 miles), a tempo or speed run, and a long run (covering 12 to 22 miles, depending on where I am in my training cycle).
On top of running, I do plyometric exercises, like box jumps, squat jumps, and skater hops at least three to four times per week to help build explosive power and improve my balance and stability. I’ve also been strength training for about two years, and I attend a group strength training class at my local gym, The Coalition, twice a week: one day focused on legs and core, the other on upper body. Working out there has truly changed my experience with lifting; the coaches have been instrumental in helping me learn how to adapt movements in a way that works for my body. It’s become a safe, supportive environment where I feel comfortable asking questions, trying new things, and getting stronger.
I do modify some upper-body exercises, but with their guidance, I’ve found creative solutions. For example, since I can’t hold a dumbbell with my left arm, I slide a weight plate onto my upper arm for movements like biceps curls and overhead presses. For deadlifts, I wrap a Pilates ring around a barbell and grip the ring so it acts as an extension of my arm. Sometimes finding the right adaptation takes creativity, but it makes all the difference in allowing me to fully participate in my training and continue building strength.
3 Fitness Products I Can’t Train Without
These three factors are key to my athletic success:
1. I draw strength and inspiration from my community.
Living with a disability can be isolating, and making lasting connections—especially with people who can relate to my experience—hasn’t always been easy. Fortunately, I’ve been a member and advocate of the Lucky Fin Project, a nonprofit that celebrates and raises awareness for people with limb differences, since 2018.
Their community truly understands my experience and has helped shape my achievements, and the friendships I’ve found there have been more meaningful than I could have expected. We regularly stay connected online and gather once a year for an in-person retreat to celebrate our successes. Being surrounded by others who share the same drive, goals, and experiences validates every struggle and reminds me that I’m not alone on this journey.
2. I set achievable goals.
As a competitive athlete, it’s easy to compare myself to others, especially when the goal of competition is literally to win. But I’ve learned that real growth comes from setting goals that are realistic and meaningful to my own journey, not someone else’s. Instead of chasing another athlete’s race time or definition of success, I focus on what challenges me and pushes me to improve. For instance, my goal with the Boston Marathon isn’t to win or even outrace anyone else in the adaptive division—it’s to beat my own marathon personal best and finish in under four hours. It’ll be challenging, but I’m so excited to see all my hard work pay off.
3. I understand that success fluctuates.
Some days I feel strong, fast, and completely in sync with my training, and other days my body reminds me that progress takes time and patience. On tough training days when I’m not performing as well as I’d like, I remind myself that it’s all part of the process, and everyone’s path looks different. Even when my progress feels slow, it doesn’t take away from my accomplishments or the hard work I put in. Then, on race day, I always come back to my favorite mantra: Just because everyone is on the same start line doesn’t mean we all took the same road to get there. That keeps me grounded and focused on my own unique progress.
Living with a disability does not define who I am, but being an athlete does. I am strong, powerful, proud, and incredibly capable, and I’m excited to keep putting in the work, getting faster, and continuing to grow stronger.
Andi Breitowich is a freelance writer who covers health, fitness, relationships, beauty, and smart living. She is a graduate of Emory University and Northwestern University’s Medill School of Journalism. Her work has appeared in Women’s Health, POPSUGAR, Food & Wine, What To Expect, Cosmopolitan, Men’s Health, and elsewhere. As a former collegiate pole vaulter, she loves all things fitness and has yet to meet a group workout class she doesn’t like.







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