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 50k had pacers for a 50-mile or 100k had a crew for a 50-mile or 100k Finally, If you had pacer[s], crew/entourage for a 100 Then 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.