When you hear that someone is gearing up to run a 24-hour hundred miler, it’s not unreasonable to assume that that person is a serious runner. Then you come across an outlier like Sean Thomson. Sure, Thomson has two marathons [4:30:00 and 4:15:00 respective finishes] along with a very respectable 1:06:00 Broad Street Run finish under his belt. But when you talk about those experiences with him you quickly learn that he only did them to see if he could. “I just wanted to see how fast I could run. I don’t consider myself a runner.” Oh, he also ran a 100 miler roughly 11 years ago, again, mostly to push his limits but also to raise funds for autism awareness. Now he’s preparing to run his second century, and this time it’s personal.
Earlier this year Thomson’s sister-in-law, Natalie, was diagnosed with breast cancer and her insurance has been putting her through hell. This news, combined with his longtime friend, John Adamski, losing his mother-in-law to cancer was all the spark he needed to commit to running another 100. But the idea of a 24-hour 100 miler didn’t just come out of the blue. Adamski had already been pestering Thomson for several months to run another century prior to the bad news.
Thomson doesn’t consider himself a runner, or even an endurance athlete. But, as owner and coach at No Limit Gym, he’s fit as hell, and willing to put his body on the line for his loved ones; so at 5:00am October 8th, 2022, Thomson, Adamski, and their friend, John McBride will grind through 100 Miles for Natalie—a 24-hour, 100-mile run on a 10 mile loop in Northeast Philadelphia. In addition to raising funds for Thomson’s sister-in-law, the event will honor the memory of Adamksi’s late mother-in-law, Joann Brunkel, by raising funds for Legacy of Hope’s Emergency Patient Support network. Only two of the three have completed 100 milers before—Thomson and Adamski. Thomson shares “It’s been several years since we did our respective 100s. McBride hasn’t done one yet, but he does distance running. I know we can do this. We’re mentally tougher now than we were in our mid twenties, we take better care of ourselves, we have a personal connection to cancer.”
The three of them initially figured 100 Miles for Natalie was going to be a makeshift fundraiser, maybe a GoFundMe page. But after some research, they found Legacy of Hope; “we knew right away this is who we need to link up with. We loved what we saw Legacy of Hope doing, and knew that could help us make a bigger impact; so we reached out to Mike Rowe and set things up.”
The story of how Thomson got his fitness to the point where he can do these challenges is an inspiring one. Hailing from Northeast Philly’s Wissinoming neighborhood, he grew up with a voracious appetite for basketball. He played on the varsity squad all four of his years at North Catholic, and was two years deep as a starter at Manor Junior College, when his hoop dreams shattered, along with his left humerus, in a freak arm-wrestling accident one Christmas night. Nine hours of reconstructive surgery, an 11-inch titanium rod, and nine screws later—along with nearly a year spent regaining full range of motion and strength—Thomson had unknowingly started down a new life path. He was laser focused on rehabilitating his arm so he could rejoin his basketball team. But doubts about whether he’d be able to play again made scholarship money unlikely; and ultimately, he didn’t return. However, his rehab wasn’t a total loss.
Thomson explains that he relentlessly asked his physical therapist questions during rehab. “I wanted to know how the exercises worked, how they correlated with the anatomy and physiology; my physical therapist (PT) told me that I always asked really good questions—that I had a knack for this stuff. She suggested that I become a PT. But I told her I don’t want to be a PT. They have all the patience in the world—watching someone squeeze a ball for three hours. I can’t do that.” What he did do, however, was to follow up on her guidance and enrolled at NPTI (National Personal Trainers Institute), got credits for athletic training and became a certified nutritionist. Soon after, he landed a solid gig at the Aquatic Fitness Center in the Northeast, but quickly tired of working for someone else and decided to go out on his own and start No Limit Gym.
Without a background in business, Thomson went through a lot of trial and error. But he did the work, connected the dots, drew upon his resources and laid a solid foundation for his gym. Critical to that success was a conversation Thomson had