"The first half is physical, the second half is mental"
80 days—an ultramarathon every single day. My coachee Savas Coban crossed the finish line in Istanbul yesterday at 5 p.m. local time. After crossing Peru and Mongolia, this time his challenge took him across Turkey.
Over the past few weeks, I stayed in regular contact with Savas Coban. I was sitting in the car, in the office, or on the sofa—while he was in the middle of his run at kilometer 40, 50, or 70. Early on it became clear that the run would not challenge him physically. Many others would have struggled—but not him. His challenges were of a different kind.
What pushed him to his limits? Not the distance, not the daily “battle,” not the temperatures, not the climbs. It was the things beyond the route—anchored deep within: the loneliness, dealing with himself, enduring thoughts and emotions for which there is no immediate escape.
A recently published article about Savas Coban in Stern captures one particular aspect perfectly: the loneliness he experienced.
Savas Coban has completed all of his projects so far without a support team—and even holds a world record for doing so. An incredible achievement that demanded a great deal from him.
What the body and training prepare, the mind ultimately decides.
An insight that is nothing new in science. Ultra-endurance athletes often report that the mental component of ultra-endurance performance can be greater than the physical one. In the end, it is not the body that decides—but the mind.
That’s why, for Savas Coban, the short and simple encounters were the most valuable and decisive moments on this journey. A conversation at a gas station. A smile from a shopkeeper. A brief exchange with older people in a café.
In those moments lay the humanity, the connection, the support—for a project that may look epic from the outside, but is deeply personal on the inside.
The real achievement was enduring his own thoughts, doubts, and emotions—without anyone there to catch them.
From the outside, he appears to be an exceptional athlete—look closer, and you see an extraordinarily reflective human being.
This post was published by Melan Thuraiappah on LinkedIn on November 21, 2025.