You could call it “extreme fast trekking.” It’s hard to articulate how ridiculously slow and tough this mountain “running” is, but I’ll try.
I put off writing a race report because I felt the kind of turned-inside-out fatigue and brain fog that a new mother feels the week after giving birth.
I’m excited, but fear sneaks up on me. … Something unreal yet way too real happened that partially explains why I savor the purpose, focus, escapism and sense of control that preparing for the Western States 100 offers.
This post highlights key take-aways from the book—several of which I appreciate because they articulate and support my views on some topics that have generated controversy in our sport.
From my perspective as a child growing up in Ojai, the mountains that make up the Nordhoff Ridge always looked so big and far away. I could only reach them on horseback. On my last visit, I decided to step out of my comfort zone of running familiar streets and go up and along the […]
I was nervous, not so much about the competition—which was out of my league, attracting the country’s top ultrarunners—but about how I’d do compared to my younger self.
This can’t be good. I’m supposed to be sleeping well and tapering for a race next weekend that I care about. … But I’ve been through this kind of big transition before, the “what have we done, how are we gonna do this …” state of excitement mixed with anxiety.
When Ultimate Direction came out with a new-and-improved version of the Ultra Vesta—and also launched a women’s version of the larger-capacity SJ Ultra Vest (which I use for longer, unsupported treks)—you bet I was excited to try them.
Doing “just” the 50K felt like pedaling behind the big kids with training wheels on my bike. Here’s my Sean O’Brien 50K race report, with bonus content at the end: “The Idiot’s Guide to Race Day Planning.”
So much of my stress is tied to perfectionism, to wanting to get it just right or not do it at all. I overthink and underproduce.