DNF started on cold mornings, torn between chasing finish lines and watching my kids wake up.
Ultrarunning is brutal, lonely, and often misunderstood, especially the training that goes into it.
We built DNF to give runners a movement, not just a mantra, a place for support, knowledge, and belonging when it matters most.
DNF wasn’t born at a finish line.
It was born somewhere around mile 63, soaked, sleep-deprived, stomach gone, legs trashed, questioning why I even signed up in the first place.
I’m a dad of two, a runner, and like so many others, I started taking this sport more seriously once turning 30. But chasing long runs gets harder when your kids are waking up at home without you. The guilt creeps in. The sessions feel selfish. And yet,that pull to push the boundaries of what the human body can do never really leaves.
The problem? There’s no support system for that part of the journey.
Not the finish lines — the dark miles.
The cold solo starts. The pressure to perform. The family not quite understanding why.
The hours spent googling race nutrition, pacing strategy, and pain training, instead of playing on the floor with your kids.
And the result?
DNFs…
Not on race day — but in training.
Plans abandoned. Runs skipped. Motivation lost. The why forgotten.
So we built DNF to fix that.
Not just a brand — a movement.
One built on support, knowledge, and camaraderie — for the everyday ultrarunner trying to do something extraordinary.
We’re building more than training plans.
We’re building a culture — of resilience, honesty, and relentless support. A brand that stands for those who suffer early, train smart, and finish what they start.
Whether you’re chasing your first ultra or your hardest one yet — this is your space.
This is your crew.
This is DNF.
