Running for 10 hours sounds insane to most people. Now imagine pushing that to 20… or 30… or more. While it may sound like torture from the outside, it’s actually one of the most rewarding things I’ve ever done. Ultrarunning isn’t just about distance. It’s about willingly stepping into discomfort and staying there. It’s about navigating chaos, embracing suffering, and choosing growth over comfort—again and again.

Here’s why I keep coming back for more:

1. It’s Physically Ridiculous… in the Best Way
   Marathons demand effort. Ultrarunning demands everything. You don’t just tap into your reserves—you torch them. At some point, your muscles are shot, your joints ache, and the idea of taking another step sounds offensive. And that’s when the real challenge begins. Your body wants out, but your mind has to carry the load. That’s where you learn what you’re made of. You discover that mental grit isn’t just a concept—it’s a survival skill. There’s something strangely beautiful about being that broken down and still moving forward. (While consuming bacon).
2. You’re Not Just Racing—You’re Problem-Solving on the Move
   Ultras aren’t clean, predictable races. They’re logistical disasters waiting to happen. Things break. Plans go sideways. Your body rebels. What worked perfectly in training might fail you by mile 40. You’re constantly adjusting—gear, pace, food, mindset. You become a mechanic, medic, therapist, and logistics manager… all while staying in motion. The runners who finish aren’t always the fittest—they’re the ones who can adapt and keep moving when the plan falls apart.
3. It’s an Adventure, Not Just a Race
   Ultras are equal parts race, expedition, and survival exercise. You’re battling prolonged sun exposure, temperature swings, stomach issues, and sleep deprivation—all while trying to get thousands of calories in without puking. And let me tell you: the same peanut butter sandwich that tasted great at mile 10 might be your mortal enemy at mile 80. It’s a constant dance between pushing hard and staying upright. Every detail matters. Every decision counts. You don’t just show up and run. You prepare like you’re going to war—with snacks. And lots of bacon.
4. The Ultrarunning Community Is a Different Breed
   There’s a level of camaraderie out there you won’t find anywhere else. Everyone on that trail is struggling in some way, but we lift each other up. You might spend 10 miles with a total stranger, talking about life, pain, faith, and foot blisters… and by the end, they feel like family. Runners cheer for each other and share their race survival hacks. Crews help runners they don’t even know when they see someone in a bad spot. Runners share bacon with other runners. In a world obsessed with comparison, this community just wants to see everyone finish the thing that no sane person should even start.
5. It’s a Team Sport in Disguise
   Sure, I’m the one doing the running—but I’m never doing it alone. My crew is my lifeline. They bandage blisters, change shoes, force me to eat, and remind me who I am when I forget. They also cook my bacon. And my pacers? Legends. These are the people who willingly run beside you in the dark, through storms, bugs, hallucinations, and self-doubt. Without my team, I don’t cross the finish line. Period.
6. Failure Is a Prerequisite
   If you’re afraid to fail, ultrarunning will humble you quick. You learn by screwing things up—badly. One race it’s dehydration, the next it’s wrong clothing or a bad fuel strategy. You fail, you adjust, and you grow. Every mistake teaches you something. You pack extra gear, backup snacks, bacon, emergency tape, and prayers. Eventually, you realize that success doesn’t come from avoiding failure—it comes from responding to it better next time.
7. Planning is Part of the Race
   People laugh when I say packing for a race is harder than packing for a weeklong, international scuba diving vacation—but I’m dead serious. Running 100 miles takes strategy, and you pack like a Boy Scout for many potential scenarios with a buffet’s amount of food. You’re bringing headlamps, batteries, anti-chafe, kinesiology tape, bug spray, bacon, sunscreen, electrolyte tablets, spare shoes, rain gear, and food you may or may not be able to stomach. I’ve learned most of what I know the hard way—by forgetting something essential or borrowing from someone who didn’t. Shout-out to Tony Brown who help me avoid some of my own rookie mistakes.

Final Thought: It’s More Than Running
Ultrarunning isn’t just a sport—it’s a personal excavation. When everything hurts, the path ahead feels endless, and you still find a way to move forward… that’s where the breakthrough happens. That’s where mental toughness grows. That’s where the old version of you dies so a stronger one can emerge. And for me, that’s worth every mile. (And…the bacon).

35 days until Honey Badger 100 Mile Ultra Road Race, which is race #3 (of 4) in the Iron Will Slam. Of 11 runners who started the slam, only William Sprouse and I remain. It will be a long day (and night) on hot asphalt in mid-July. With lots of bacon.