Mr Trail Safety Speaks!

Mere moments before I did my first ultra, Sept 1989. I was at a wedding several summers back and a handsome young dude asked me "don't you ever wish you were young and beautiful like me?" I looked at him, thinking, "...sure." But I answered him "Billy, play your cards right, and you can be old and ugly like me." This wasn't the answer he expected.  But I deal in the unexpected. Have a seat. Oh very young, what will you leave us this time? I see your fresh faces thundering down the trail in your most Recent Race Shirt. You're young and enthusiastic. It's springtime, and Ultras are magical. Your Luck Bag is full, and your Injury Bag is empty.  As it should be. In time, typically about five seasons, you'll look around and suddenly wonder "who the fuck are all these new people?" They'll be wearing their own styles, carrying gear that is different from yours, and probably look at your flat-brimmed trucker ...

This is not a pipe either Everyone 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. Ultras 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. Here’s 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. Eventually exhaustion sets in. The runner...