Out of Step, Built to Endure: Ultrarunner Ishmael’s Early Struggles with Sport
Written by Ishmael Burdeau. Subheadings added by the Neurodiverse Sport team to support readability.
This is part one of a two-part blog post - for part two, read ‘Endurance, Identity, and the Long Way Home: Ishmael Burdeau, the Autistic Ultrarunner’. This blog post features a powerful, reflective piece written by Autistic ultrarunner and UESCA certified running coach Ishmael Burdeau. Writing in his own words, Ishmael shares his experiences of growing up undiagnosed, finding his identity through endurance sport, and recognising the profound alignment between Autism and ultra-distance disciplines. We first discovered Ishmael through an article he wrote for I Run Far, in which he noted the high number of Autistic people both drawn to and excelling in ultrarunning. His positive framing of Autism in sport was refreshing—and we were thrilled to connect with him.
Ishmael Burdeau, Ultrarunner and Coach
Childhood Exclusion
"As a kid growing up in the USA in the 1970s and 80s, being good at sports was the easiest and most effective way to be accepted by one’s peers, and even more so for boys. The stereotypes often seen in American films and TV shows were certainly accurate, at least in my experience.
As an undiagnosed and unrecognised young autistic who really struggled with social acceptance and spent most of his time avoiding bullies, I longed to be good at a sport—any sport.
Unfortunately for me, and many other autistics, I had a degree of dyspraxia and physical awkwardness that meant I was generally far behind my peers in my ability to catch, throw and sprint, which are the building blocks of nearly all popular sports in America and in fact most countries."
A Glimpse of Potential
"Even while seeking refuge in the library, I still longed to use my body and physicality the way I had done as a small child, before the need to ‘fit in’. In this time there were a few small glimpses of the athlete-to-be, even if these went mostly unrecognised.
One very distinct and early memory I have of this was during a PE class, when I was aged about 9. In a change from the usual lessons which were spent in teams, catching, throwing and sprinting, this lesson was different—we were simply told to run laps around the field for an indeterminate period of time.
I remember setting off with my classmates, enjoying this somewhat novel and less structured activity. After only a lap or two, I found myself far out in front, just moving along at my natural pace. It felt fairly effortless, I was certainly not that fast, but I also had something else which the other kids didn’t."
Ishmael Burdeau, Ultrarunner and Coach
Cycling as a Refuge
"Sadly this lesson was a one-off, and aside from a few tiny moments of sporting joy (which generally involved simple, aimless running), it would be many years before I began to learn that far from being a hopeless athlete, I would become a lifelong one.
Looking back, it’s a little odd to think that none of my teachers or PE coaches picked up on this. Doubtless things would have turned out quite differently if they had.
Instead, I was strangely drawn to an even odder and more marginal endurance sport: cycling. This was indeed very strange for a young teenager in southeast Alaska, where basketball, baseball and American football were the only socially acceptable forms of sporting activity."
—But Never Quite a Fit
"Despite the fact that I was a fairly good cyclist—I was invited to the US Olympic Training Center and raced at a high level in France and Italy—something was missing. While I loved many aspects of the sport, especially long days training alone in the mountains and the simple yet strict and regimented life of an athlete, many other aspects of the sport held little appeal or were actively in opposition to my sense of self.
Cycling is a strange hybrid activity, combining both individual and team skills. I had little interest in riding as part of a team, and reading the rhythm of the peloton and anticipating the tactics of others held little appeal. I also lacked the bike handling skills of many of the other riders and had a strong dislike for group riding. My preferred terrain was the long uphill, where skills, tactics and teamwork fell away."
Ishmael Burdeau, Ultrarunner and Coach
Burnout and Disillusionment
"Hampered by these limitations, I also found myself in frequent opposition to my team coaches. Partly through a level of autistic focus on my ‘special interest’ (I was an avid student of sports science), and partly through a generalised defiance towards many authority figures (especially those granted this status through no obvious knowledge or talent), I refused to fit in or do as I was told by these authority figures.
By the age of 20 I had given up all thoughts of competitive sport, feeling burned out and somewhat disgusted by the very notion of competitive, elite-level sport."
The Pull Back to Movement
"After a decade lost to masking, I felt the urgent need to return to an athletic life in my early 30s, for both my physical and mental health. This time I took up marathon running in a fairly serious way, dedicating most of my free time to planning, executing and recovering from training and racing, primarily on the roads in the south of England.
My focus and dedication paid off, with 34-minute 10Ks and a 2:46 marathon. By no means fast times in any absolute sense, but pretty quick by most standards."
The Myth That Holds Many Back
"At this point in my life I was also beginning to hear of the term Asperger's Syndrome, but it was one I eventually rejected, based on the mistaken belief that there was no way that someone with Asperger’s Syndrome would be able to perform in any sport. How wrong I was."
Final Thoughts
Ishmael’s story is a powerful reminder that mainstream definitions of sport and success are often far too narrow. His journey—from exclusion to elite-level performance—highlights the importance of self-awareness, autonomy, and finding environments that align with one’s natural rhythm. It also shows how damaging stereotypes and missed opportunities can be for neurodivergent athletes—and how powerful it is when those athletes find their space on their own terms.
His perspective is reshaping the conversation around Autism and endurance sport, and we’re honoured to share it.
Follow Ishmael on Instagram: @sublimechaser
Stay tuned for part two: Endurance, Identity, and the Long Way Home: Ishmael Burdeau, the Autistic Ultrarunner
Takeaways from Ishmael’s Early Life Experiences
For Neurodivergent Individuals:
Your environment may be the issue, not you
→ If the setup doesn’t play to your strengths, it’s not a fair test of your potential.
Endurance is a strength
→ You might thrive in activities that value consistency, focus, and internal pacing.
Identity isn’t fixed by childhood experiences
→ Even if early sport didn’t go well, it doesn’t mean you’re not an athlete.
For Peers, Supporters, and Parents:
Notice what energises someone
→ Joy and competence don’t always look loud—quiet enthusiasm matters too.
Challenge your own assumptions
→ Sport isn’t just for the fast or the flashy; it’s for everyone, in their own way.
Be the person who opens a door
→ Sometimes, one supportive adult is all it takes to change a young person’s trajectory.
For Coaches, Leaders, and Organisations:
Diversify what you define as talent
→ Don’t just reward speed or coordination—notice focus, endurance, and dedication too.
Allow different ways to participate
→ Unstructured, individual options can reveal hidden strengths.
One moment can make a difference
→ A single lesson where someone feels competent can shift their entire relationship with sport.
This blog post was written by Ishmael Burdeau. Subheadings were added by the Neurodiverse Sport team to support readability.