When she was in eighth grade, Dakotah Lindwurm and her mother slept in a 2004 Pontiac Grand Am in the parking lot of the Walmart in Coon Rapids, Minnesota.
Halfway through each night, they would switch positions—one would sleep in the backseat and the other would sleep in the passenger seat, reclined as far back as it would go. Truckers parked their rigs in nearby spots.
This summer? She’ll be staying in an Airbnb in Paris, getting ready for the Olympic Marathon.
Courtesy of Dakotah Lindwurm Dakotah Lindwurm poses with her parents, Shawn and Connie Bullen, in 2017 to claim a spot on Team USA. The details of her running rise have been hashed over: She had modest personal bests in high school, and in college she walked onto the track team at Division II Northern State University in Aberdeen, South Dakota. She essentially did the same with her pro training group, Minnesota Distance Elite, four years later.
Yet there she was, in the late miles of the Olympic Marathon Trials on February 3 in Orlando, Florida, fighting for the third spot and a trip to the Games.
DAA Industry Opt Out Fiona O’Keeffe, a product of Stanford and already a top half marathoner, in 2:22:10. Although O’Keeffe was making her debut, she had a background that predicted marathon success. Second place was Emily Sisson, Lindwurm, in many ways, is the most unlikely runner to emerge from the.
During the final miles of the race, Lindwurm was in a battle with a Boston Marathon champion, Caroline Rotich, and Sara Hall, fifth-fastest marathoner in American history. At the end, Lindwurm prevailed, finishing third in 2:25:31 and holding off hard-charging opponents.
Despite her winding path to running’s elite ranks, Lindwurm never counts herself out, even at her lowest points. And her lows have been lower than most pro runners will ever experience.
“Sometimes you have to bet on yourself, and then other people will follow suit,” Lindwurm said.
A turbulent period
Growing up in St. Francis, a small town about 40 miles north of Minneapolis, Lindwurm played hockey. When she was in middle school, her dad, Shawn Bullen, suggested she watch the movie Miracle—a film about the unheralded 1980 U.S. Olympic hockey team that beat the Soviet Union, gold medalists in the previous four Olympic Games.
“I remember looking at Jim Craig, who’s the goalie of that team, and I played goalie, and being like, ‘That’s what I was put on this earth to do,’” Lindwurm said. The story of how the Americans, a ragtag group of mostly college players, beat a powerhouse and went on to win gold sparked something in Lindwurm.
When she was 10, Lindwurm’s parents divorced. Her mother, Connie Bullen, fell ill shortly after, experiencing debilitating symptoms that left her unable to get out of bed. At the time, doctors couldn’t diagnose her and dismissed her symptoms, telling her it was all in her head, Lindwurm said.
It would be five years before they learned she suffered from autoimmune diseases, including lupus and rheumatoid arthritis. During flare-ups, she wasn’t able to maintain consistent work. And without a diagnosis, she was unable to receive government assistance, which left the pair with few options.
Throughout middle school, Lindwurm and her mother experienced periods of homelessness. If her mom couldn’t keep up with rent payments, they’d couch surf with family members or sleep in her car—always at Walmart because it’s open 24 hours.
“I remember feeling like life wasn’t fair in those times,” Lindwurm said. “But as sad as those times were, I think we had such great bonding memories because of it that maybe you wouldn’t get in a more normal situation. I look back at it, and obviously it made me gritty and tough.”
Lindwurm spent every other weekend with her dad. Because her mom was afraid of losing custody of her daughter, Lindwurm didn’t tell her dad about their housing situation. One day, when he yelled at her for not keeping her phone charged, it became too much to bear.
Within a week, Shawn Bullen had rented a townhouse for the family and covered all the expenses. He lived in the basement; Lindwurm and her mother each had rooms upstairs. Lindwurm could grow up with both parents under one roof.
“It was the best thing I ever did in my life,” Shawn Bullen said. “I know she wouldn’t be where she is now if we wouldn’t have lived together and raised her together.”
“This is embarrassing”
By the time Lindwurm started high school, the family’s housing situation was stable, leaving her open to explore other outlets.
She loved playing as a goaltender on her hockey team. But the sport also took up the majority of her time and energy. Lindwurm said hockey gave her the highest highs but also the lowest lows. Her mother wanted her daughter to try another activity—anything to find more balance. So Lindwurm joined the track team at St. Francis High School. The transition was tough.
“I was so bad at it,” Lindwurm said. “I remember being at a track meet and being like, ‘Oh, I have to get better, because this is embarrassing.’ I’m somebody who hates being bad at things.” She started running more miles on the weekends and joining sessions with the boys’ team. By the time she graduated, Lindwurm had improved her personal best in the 1600 meters from 6:12 to 5:35, and the 3200 meters from 13:13 to 11:56. Solid times, but nothing that would have predicted her future.
Lindwurm didn’t receive any interest from college coaches, but she wanted to continue competing. When she enrolled at Northern State, she filled out the team’s online questionnaire and walked on to the squad.
A teammate who had the same high school times as Lindwurm qualified for the NCAA DII Cross Country Championships as a sophomore. Lindwurm was inspired to improve her training, picking up the pace in workouts and becoming more consistent in the gym. In 2015, she qualified for the NCAA DII Outdoor Track Championships and finished 19th in the 10,000 meters. Her junior year, she was 16th. As a senior, she finished sixth in the event, earning All-American honors.
A few weeks before graduation in December 2017, Lindwurm was showing a recruit and her family around campus. The parents asked Lindwurm if she planned to keep running after college. Lindwurm shared vague plans to run 5Ks and eventually move up to the marathon.
But her coach, Kevin Bjerke, saw greater potential. “He said, ‘You can definitely qualify for the Olympic Trials in the marathon.’” Lindwurm was stunned. “I was like, ‘Wait a minute, what does that mean?’ I had all these questions,” she said.
The next day, Lindwurm showed up in Bjerke’s office with a pen and paper. She took detailed notes and asked him to give her step-by-step instructions, including paces she needed to hit, in order to qualify for the race. He also connected her to Chris Lundstrom, the head coach of Minnesota Distance Elite, to inquire about training with the pro team based in Minneapolis.
Moving to the marathon
In the months after she graduated, Lindwurm made several big moves. She married her college boyfriend, Nick Lindwurm, and she took a major leap in her running career.
In January 2018, Lundstrom invited her to meet the group and discuss her plans with him at a practice. Because the group admits new members in the summer and Lindwurm’s times weren’t fast enough for her to be given a spot on the team, Lundstrom offered to coach her and let her train with them in the interim. In March, Lindwurm moved back to Minnesota and began going to practices, while working full-time as a substitute school teacher. With several 2:30 marathoners in the group, she had plenty of people to chase. “I was getting dropped in every workout,” she said.
Right away, Lindwurm made an impression on the team.
“At the time, Katy Jermann [a 1:12 half marathoner] was always the one on a normal run or warmup who would be out pretty quick and pushing the pace, like no messing around. And Dakotah was right up there with her,” Lundstrom said. “It was clear she had the engine for the longer distance stuff.”
And Lindwurm was persistent. Eventually, the faster times followed. She earned an official spot on the team in the summer of 2018. At the 2018 Garry Bjorklund Half Marathon, she ran 1:16:19. In December 2018, she lined up for her first road marathon at the California International Marathon in Sacramento and her first attempt to qualify for the 2020 Marathon Trials.
She put a lot of pressure on herself, and in the early miles, she experienced stomach issues. She dropped out at mile 18. Discouraged, Lindwurm called her mother and expressed her doubts about the event. Connie Bullen urged her daughter to try the marathon at least one more time.
For the next six months, Lindwurm worked on her fueling strategy. At the 2019 Grandma’s Marathon, in nearby Duluth, Minnesota, she finished fourth in 2:34:06, well under the 2:45 standard required to compete at the 2020 Trials. She went on to run 2:39:08 at the Trials in Atlanta, finishing 36th.
A painful loss
With the world shut down during the pandemic, Lindwurm got terrible news that had nothing to do with COVID. On May 7, 2020, her mom was diagnosed with an aggressive form of lung cancer that had spread throughout her body. At the time, Lindwurm had been laid off from her teaching job, so she moved her mom into her home. “I feel lucky that I got to have that time with her, even though it was hard,” Lindwurm said.
They had only three weeks. Lindwurm, 25 at the time, was doing the work of a full-time nurse, administering medications and scheduling appointments, until Connie Bullen was admitted to a hospice center. She died on May 30 at age 49.
Motivated by her family’s experience with homelessness, Lindwurm started working as a housing advocate. In her new role, she helped people with low or no income and disabilities find affordable housing.
At the same time, Lindwurm’s running started to take off. Some athletes struggled to maintain motivation during the pandemic, but Lindwurm became even more focused. In December 2020, Lindwurm finished 13th in 2:30:38 at the Marathon Project, one of the few racing opportunities that year.
In June 2021, she returned to Grandma’s Marathon and won in 2:29:04, and she followed that with a 12th-place finish in 2:31:04 at the Boston Marathon, rescheduled to October because of COVID delays. She ended the year with a third-place finish at the U.S. Half Marathon Championships in December.
Olympic Rings Tattoos Now Allowed at Paralympics signed her first sponsorship deal with Puma. After getting the contract, she quit her job as a housing advocate to focus on running full-time.
Soon after, she realized she needed more structure in her life. That year, Lindwurm was navigating a divorce from her husband. On top of the separation, focusing only on running proved unhealthy. After six months of running full-time, Lindwurm picked up a job as a paralegal through a mutual friend of the team.
Faith in herself
In the fall of 2022, things started to turn around for Lindwurm. She met her boyfriend, Montana Popehn, on a dating app. Unfamiliar with running, Popehn said he was intrigued by her profile, which listed “professional runner” as her occupation. On one of the couple’s early dates, he quickly learned about Lindwurm’s competitive side when she trounced him in mini golf. “I was like, this girl is more athletic than anybody I’ve ever dated,” Popehn said.
Lindwurm encouraged Popehn to take up running. She also added him to the roster of 15 athletes she coaches online at Team RunRun. In the spring of 2023, she coached him in preparation for his marathon debut. Popehn finished in 3:29 and said he cried when he saw her waiting for him at the finish line. The experience also gave him a new perspective on her life.
The possibility of becoming an Olympian really began to take shape for Lindwurm last October after the 2023 Chicago Marathon, where she ran a personal best of 2:24:40, despite fading slightly over the last few miles. For her Trials buildup, she and Lundstrom devised a training block that included more track work to improve her closing speed and increased her mileage to 130 per week during peak periods.
After Thanksgiving, Lindwurm drove to Orlando for the last training weeks ahead of the Trials. Throughout the buildup, Lindwurm was more mindful about recovery. She prioritized her sleep—she aims for 10 hours every night—and started drinking a gallon of water every day.
Above all, Lindwurm said, she held firm to her unwavering belief in her abilities.
“If you love something, I just can’t imagine thinking you couldn’t do it,” Lindwurm said. “I have this thing in my heart that says, ‘I can be the best at this sport.’ I don’t know where that comes from, but I’m thankful for it.”
In the days before the Olympic Trials, Lindwurm told her dad to get a passport so he could watch her at the Paris Games. As she was approaching the finish line in Orlando, Shawn Bullen momentarily blacked out and fell over on the sidewalk. (He quickly recovered, although nearby spectators momentarily wondered if they needed to call an ambulance.) His daughter had just run 26.2 miles; he needed assistance to walk over and hug her.
“I was like a newborn baby. I just had no legs,” Bullen said. “Dakotah talked herself into it, and there was no way she was not going to get on that team.”
On to Paris
The Olympic marathon course is grueling, with 1,430 Olympic Rings Tattoos Now Allowed at Paralympics. Lindwurm is approaching it like she does all challenges. Her plan is to hit the hills around her neighborhood in Hopkins, Minnesota, and incorporate one weekly treadmill run that includes three miles at a 3 to 4 percent incline. An April training trip to Paris to run the course will tell her and Lundstrum what she needs to be ready.
“Similar to Orlando, [Paris] leaves a lot of space for an underdog, somebody who isn’t necessarily the fastest to place well,” Lindwurm said. “And I plan to prepare well.”’
After the Marathon Trials, Lindwurm received hundreds of messages of congratulations, many from younger athletes. She’s made it a priority to answer each one. As someone who had a rocky start and worked her way up, Lindwurm wants to encourage more runners to believe in themselves. Just as she did, even though she had little evidence to support such faith.
Running, she says, is a sport that doesn’t care where you came from or what you did when you were younger.
“It seems so daunting to be on the starting line with these women who were running amazing times all the way back in high school and college,” Lindwurm said. “But there’s space for people who are willing to work really hard.”
Taylor Dutch is a writer and editor living in Austin, Texas, and a former NCAA track athlete who specializes in fitness, wellness, and endurance sports coverage. Her work has appeared in Runner’s World, SELF, Bicycling, Outside, and Podium Runner.
