NamedPipe

Over the past 13 years I’ve run 15 ultramarathons (including a self-created ultra in 2020) totaling 1013 miles. Here are some lessons learned.

1. The 100 Miler Is Still the Pinnacle Distance
   No matter how many times I look at other distances – longer ones, like the Cocodona 250; shorter ones, like the 50 miler – none of them match the stature of the 100 miler. It’s the marathon of ultramarathons. The distance all ultra runners aspire to.
2. 100k is My Favorite Distance
   While the 100 miler is the pinnacle, the 100k is my favorite. It takes some real prep work and planning. You can’t wing it. But it usually can be completed in a single day. And no lost sleep!
3. Adapt With Each Race
   Every race is a chance to try something new. To build on what you’ve learned. When ran into severe heartburn in my second Superior 100 Miler, I decided that I needed to eat better during the race. I used to just grab whatever food looked good at each aid station. But if heartburn is so strong that you can’t eat, then you are out. So I started carrying sliced apples in baggies. That way I had something natural to eat throughout the race. After that my heartburn largely subsided.
   One of the adaptations needed to be an ultra runner is metabolic flexibility. It means you can switch to fat-burning mode instead of burning more easily accessible carbohydrates. This skill often leads me to skip eating anything during the first 2 hours of an ultra race. Unfortunately this doomed me in the 2022 Bighorn 100. I didn’t have the calories to keep my head straight after the first climb DNFed at 30 miles. So now I make it a point to eat every 20 minutes even from the start of the race. That way I’m never playing catch up.
   Mountain ultras beat up your quads. I’ve never used trekking poles before. But I recall how beat up my quads were in the 2021 Bighorn 100 when I was descending the final miles. I was slow and had very little control. So in 2023 I bought trekking poles the day before the race. I figured I needed to try something different. They were a game changer. My legs felt amazing at the end of the race. I could’ve never navigated the mud without the poles.
4. Headlamps Suck
   The stories I can tell about headlamps! Starting with my first 100k, where I was convinced I could do the entire race without a headlamp (couldn’t do it – my wife bought and delivered a headlamp to me at an aid station). To one of my Superior 100s where I forgot to grab my headlamp from my dropbag and had to have my dad bring it to me at the next aid station (see a pattern here?). I don’t like headlamps. At about 9 p.m. at one aid station in the most recent Bighorn 100, I joked “Do you think I could make it to the turn around without a headlamp?” None of the volunteers appreciated my joke. I’m always the last to put on a headlamp – stumbling through mud and puddles that I can’t see. And I’m always the first to take it off. When the faintest hint of dawn shows up at 4 a.m., I pull it off my head. Even after completing five 100 milers, I still think headlamps still suck.
5. Embrace the Mud
   The Superior 100 is known to be pretty muddy in places. The first couple of times I ran it I deftly avoided the mud. Sometimes going far out of the way to not step in it. I watched one guy lose his shoe in the mud in the middle of the night during a Superior 100. By the time I got to finishing my 3rd Superior 100 I decided I needed to quit avoiding the mud. I needed to go head first (or at least feet first) into it. This strategy worked. I finished that one faster than any other. Once you embrace the mud you then make plans to manage it. This year’s Bighorn 100 was insanely muddy. I changed shoes 5 times and went through 9 pairs of socks. It worked. I finished 15 minutes faster than 2021.
6. Running is Your Natural State
   Mindset during an ultra is key. Maybe more important than physical ability. Instead of continually thinking about how you can’t wait to get to an aid station and rest, it’s better to think of rest as abnormal. Running is the inertia. Once this mindset is embedded you’ll be more excited to get back on to the trail than sit in a chair.
7. You Don’t Get a Pass on Race Day
   After DNFing at the 2022 Bighorn, mostly due to heat, I decided I wasn’t going let conditions stop me again. When you show up on race day you need to commit to the conditions and course you’re given. I used to say, “I’d never run an ultra in the rain.” I’ve changed that thinking. When you put that much training and planning into something you need to be ready for whatever is there on race day. You have to train for the heat. Prepare for the mud. Practice your eating. Sometimes the race does you in. It happens. Don’t let your head do you in. Show up.
8. Be Strategic at Aid Stations
   I used to treat aid stations like a nice break in the ultra. I once described the Superior 100 as an “all night buffet spread out through 100 miles of the woods”. I’d come into each aid station with no plan. I see what food was on the tables. Notice what looked tasty. Eat it. Chat. And finally move on. This was not a horrible idea. But it wasn’t one that gets you to the finish faster. I now come into each aid station with a plan and a time that I will exit. I know what I will eat (Coke and chicken soup are my go tos). I know what gear I’ll change. I know when I’ll leave. I still chat with folks volunteering. That gives me energy. But circumstances drive adaptations. In the 2023 Bighorn 100, I slipped in a flowing stream of mud and landed on my back about a mile before the Spring Marsh aid station. I was soaked and caked in mud. It was 35F and 2 in the morning. I knew I needed to change tops and warm up at Spring Marsh even though that wasn’t in the plan. So I spent more time there than planned. Threw away some clothes. Stood by the fire to warm up and dry off my mittens. It was well worth it. I couldn’t have continued in my wet gear. While my plan for Spring Marsh was different than anticipated, it was still strategic in that it solved the problems I faced at the moment.
9. Writing About Ultrarunning Makes You Better
   After each race I take time to reflect on what happened. That reflection takes form through writing. Regular writing about the events, feelings, sensations, thoughts, and people from the trail helps me make sense of what is otherwise a crazy activity. The blur of pain, amazing vistas, and elations are all clarified through writing. The linear, time-based process of writing is analogous to running on the trails. I love the the shifts in me and my thoughts and my days that have happened over the 1000 miles of racing. As Lindsey A. Freeman writes in her amazing book Running:

“We reproduce ourselves each day through the repetitive things we do, and even though they are often similar, each day, each run, each new sentence written has the potential to shift things—a person, a thought, an afternoon—if only slightly.”