Training for another 100 miles (+5.5)

Two years ago, I finished my first—and to date, only—100 miler. The summer was full of training runs. I was (over)prepared on the crew and project management side—backup pacer, spreadsheet of segments, detailed guide listing out what to have ready when I got to each crewed aid station. And it worked. I finished and took home my first buckle.

By a twist of fate, I’ll be back out on the Oregon Cascades 100 course next weekend, pacing G through the night marathon section. His A race, Oregon 200, was canceled due to wildfires along the course, and OC100 lined up perfectly for timing.

Oregon Cascades offers some scenic trail, rolling trails, nothing too serious in terms of climbing. It seemed like a great first 100 for me. It took longer than I’d expected/hoped, but I squeezed in under 31 hours with some little nudges from my pacers in the final 15 miles.

Next month, I’m lining up for my second 100 mile race. This time I chose something very different. Teanaway 100—a mountainous course on beautiful but rugged terrain, technical trails, and about 30,000+ ft (or ~5.6+ miles) of vertical gain.

The funny thing about this course: I’d heard of it when I was scouting for first 100 milers, and it sounded absolutely brutal. Early in the summer before I ran OC100, I did ~15 mi in the Teanaway with a local trail group, and it was a hard day. I distinctly recall saying, “I can’t imagine doing 100 miles out here.”

And yet, here I am, two years later, planning to take on this beast of a race. What changed? Why this race, and why now?

I’ve taken on some different run events over the past couple of years, and I’ve experienced some grief and heartbreak too. 2025 is going to be a professionally challenging and busy year. I feel like I need to avoid big running events next year (there will still be an occasional race and adventure runs). So I figured 2024 was the time to take on another 100. There were several great options, and somehow Teanaway found its way into the list.

As I considered the longer arc of the coming year, I was drawn to the idea of doing something “stupid” hard—a true challenge where I wasn’t sure of success. Partly, I was thinking back to Do Hard Things, Steve Magness’s recent book about real toughness, and related conversations on The Growth Equation podcast (now relaunched as Farewell, and one of the few podcasts for which I never miss an episode). The gist is that taking on hard challenges by choice prepares us for the hard things we encounter that may be largely beyond our control. I’ve certainly found lessons and mental muscles from ultra running carry over to other parts of life well.

I also found myself coming back to a purpose statement I drafted for my life a few years ago:

Cultivate brave spaces where people dare to try hard things, things that scare them.

This was born from a place of seeing so many people hedge and step back from things they wanted. It was a motivation for staying engaged as a leader of Trail Sisters Seattle, to get/keep women moving outdoors. It offered the fire when working with early career investigators who are trying to get that first grant in a tough environment.

If I’m being honest, Teanaway 100 scares me a little—or maybe a lot, and I’ve just managed to deny the scale of fear. I don’t know if it’s something I can do. I went through some periods on very long runs (pacing and adventures) last year where I wondered why I would want to do another 100 miler. I wasn’t sure what my motivation was when my legs were tired and my feet sore. I had my first couple of DNFs in shorter distance races last year. So heading into Teanaway, I need to get clear about why 100 miles, why this race—what will keep me going when I want to quit.

And that why this time is about chasing something that feels not guaranteed, that feels a little scary. If I want to support others in striving towards a hard goal, I have to get out and do it myself. I will test my body and mind in different ways—small race, remote course, so much climbing. But I won’t do it alone. I’ve got my community and my crew. And I have a deep, abiding love for the mountains I’ll be traversing. The truth is, I don’t know if I’ll finish this. But I’m going to go into as if I intend to, because I do.

Run like hell.