I showed up at the Jackpot Ultra in Henderson, Nevada, feeling hopeful. I used to run 100 miles in 24 hours routinely. But I haven’t run that distance in 10 years. In other words, I’ve slacked off, and the race was going be redemption.
Sometimes running isn’t the answer. Sometimes running isn’t enough. Sometimes, running is even the problem. But I don’t know how to function any other way.
Like many in our community, I spent much of January running in circles. Also, like many in our community, I spent much of February turning the dial way back down, measuring time with TV episodes rather than Strava segments for Burrito League.
If you knew me years ago, you might have described me as someone built for endurance. I tended to lean into activities that took time and effort: graduate studies, yoga training, writing and long-distance running races.
Before I dig deeper into my Black Canyon Ultras weekend, I’ll say this: being an ultra trail runner doesn’t have to mean living out of a van or leaning into a dirtbag camping vibe. After years of accepting discomfort in races around the world, I decided to treat myself for once.
When Molly Seidel stepped onto the starting line at Black Canyon, many assumed her preparation required wholesale reinvention: more vertical gain, more mileage, more long trail days – more everything.