Thoughts From The Long Run: Thoughts on Cactus Rose 100

Cactus Rose 100

The past month has seen many comings and goings for me, most notably the passing of summer and the advent of autumn (awesome!) and another major running adventure in the hill country of central Texas. I chose not to write my typically detailed post-race recap for Cactus Rose 100 this year because the race followed much the same pattern as my other endurance races - a good start, a few wobbles, a major crash, a rebound, then a charge to the finish. I'm starting to sound like a broken record. Recounting what seems like a string of difficulties on the way to a buckle (in this case, extremely poor weather for much of the race left over from a passing hurricane, difficult course conditions, running well for a while, suffering electrolyte depletion resulting in painful cramps and back spasms, giving up at mile 75, checking back in an hour later, grinding out a finish in 30 hours) is becoming redundant; suffice it to say, it was a tough day. But then again, I'm still looking for a 100-mile race report that gives the impression that ANY race of that distance was easy, regardless of the course or conditions.

I recently read a blog post from a fellow 100-mile finisher that summed up the mental side of these races very well:

The crux of a 100 are the mental games we play in the wee hours as our mind wrestles with the decision to quit or not, and this is what makes 50 miles categorically different than 100. Just about anyone who can complete a 50 in 12 hours can also complete a 100 in 30. It's not really a factor of extra training. 50s are little more than a feat of physical endurance, but what gets you from 50 to 100 is between your ears.

Here's a concrete example that we hear all the time, given as an excuse to quit: "It stopped being fun." That person played the 100 mile mental game, and lost. The point of a 100 is to continue even when it sucks. Don't like it? You should have entered a 50.

And that's the special appeal that 100 milers have. That's what makes 100s unique. Most beginning ultrarunners think 100s are merely a next step from the marathon or 50. But I've completed the 100-mile distance eleven times now - and let me tell you - 100s still intimidate the hell out of me. They're an exercise in getting over everything you're dealing with - mentally - and continuing towards the goal no matter what. It takes a massive amount of mental energy, so much in fact that I can't do more than a few per year. I simply don't have the mental capacity. Right now I'm sore and tight and achy and can't walk very well, and those are expected outward manifestations of having run an ultra. But what may not be obvious is that I'm just as exhausted mentally as I am physically.

-Steven Tursi (http://stevetursi.blogspot.com/)

I couldn't agree more.