80+ miles in; Zero dark something

Here’s where I hit my low for the race. You’ll always reach this point eventually in a hundred though the timing and distance changes from race to race. It’s not a physical low, but a mental one. After hours upon hours (or days) of moving, your mind will just balk at continuing forward. You stopped having fun literally marathons ago and all you want to do is stop. It’s like a physical weight has settled over my mind and the whole concept of running ultras is repulsive. I start to get confused as to why I’m even out here on the trail. Why did I sign up for this race? Why would I ever want to do another one of these? This is by far the dumbest thing I’ve ever done in my life.

Thankfully, I’m in the middle of the woods so my options are to continue on or . . . yeah. Make that option – singular. My body has been going for so long at this point that it really doesn’t need any guidance from my mind to keep moving forward. It’s on autopilot, while I wallow in the mire of a 100 mile low vowing never to do something so patently unenjoyable ever again. This will be the last race I ever do. And this time I really mean it. Never, ever again.

And then after a period of time, things aren’t quite so bleak anymore. Heck, there’s even an aid station not too much farther up the trail. I bet that’ll be nice.

Thinking back, it’s difficult to remember how long exactly I felt this way. It could have been 5 minutes or it could have been 50. Either way, it was just a moment in time.