Somebody runs an ultra, and now they’re bad-ass. The social-media confetti showers down. And compared to the baseline fitness of our wide-butt culture, they are. Butt! You’re comparing yourself to a demographic that walks 200yds and has to refuel. On pavement. At a theme-park.
Leaving that behind, now you’re in UltraLandia. But not so fast with that Bad-Ass Prom King or Queen crown. Here’s a convenient checklist to help out.
If you… had a drop bag for a 50khad pacers for a 50-mile or 100khad a crew for a 50-mile or 100kFinally, If you had pacer[s], crew/entourage for a 100Then you aren’t bad-ass. You’re competent.
Try running a 100mi solo. You get to manage your own shit. All of it. You don’t get to drift along behind/in front of your pacer, who might be muling shit, etc. Afraid of the dark? Problems with being lonely? This gets right to the core of it all.
Do a bunch of these like that and then, maybe, you’re bad-ass.
Don’t get me wrong—pacers can be fun and all the rest. But don’t get ahe…
is mystified why modern ultra Bobs & Betties burn out after 3
years. Every new crop of young champions rise, burn brightly, then fall
out of the heavens back into darkness, as everyone stares at their
phones. Jason Koop has some sharp observations on this.
It boils down to race proliferation, #FOMO, social media, and sponsors wanting max exposure. If you look at Ann Trason’s peak career, or Tim Twietmeyer you’ll see they didn’t race all the time. Or maybe some races didn’t make it into the database.
have changed mightily in thirty years. What used to be low-rent is now
high dollar on both ends of the spectrum. We’ve gone from aluminum lawn
chairs and a stopwatch to blowup arches and timing chips.
the arc: hot young Bob or Betty wins a name ultra. They become a
social-media influencer. Winning is a stoke, kid you not. And they race.
And race. The season never stops.
exhaustion sets in. The runner in question begins to realize its hard
Congratulations! You've won the AC100 Lottery! Some of you haven't done more than a marathon. You'll do a Care Bear 50mi qualifier, perhaps on a downhill course, with trees and a tailwind, sunny and 72º F. You may show up for an official training run, then go home and crack a beer. You're in for a rude surprise: It won't mean shit to Angeles Crest. Because AC is everything your low-voltage qualifier is not. More on that here, and here.
The 2017 Angeles Crest 100 kicked off with 80 DNS. This was up from 60 of last year. No refunds, no waiting list, no explanations. That's a nice payday.
The 2018 Entrant Lottery promised and delivered. It was beta-tested in 2016, and deemed fit to run.
I'll Ask The Awkward Questions, Again.Nothing has changed. Following the 2014 entry-scrum, I posted the following ideas: All entrants must prequalify with 2 50s or 1 100, using the list of races that WS100 had already figured out. Right now it's "get a 50 done whenever&…