The mental game

Ben was just behind me, pacing me.  I was struggling mightily to walk up a short incline.

"Its pretty sad that I have 4 hours to cover 14 miles and I'm not going to be able to do it." [regarding finishing sub-24]

It was just before I hit the Dam Nation aid station for the first time on my final lap. That statement resonated loudly and wouldn't leave my head. 4 hours to cover 14 miles? Even though I knew how slow I was going, I couldn't comprehend not being able to cover that distance in four hours. But I knew the pace I had been moving at. My 90 year old grandmother would have easily been able to pace me. I was coming to the realization that it was impossible to cover that distance, even with four hours to spare. But still, the thought wouldn't leave my head, so I made a decision. I was going to break 24 hours or go down in flames. I figured if I wasn't going to break 24 anyway, nothing would change if I cracked...I had enough time to walk it in under the cut off. The fatigue was almost overwhelming, my ankles were swollen, and my feet throbbed with pain on every footfall. I pushed and pushed harder. I almost completely stopped talking to Ben and focused. One foot in front of the other, only walking briefly each time my body revolted, shutting down. I had to will myself to start running again each time.

3 hours and 45 minutes later, I crossed the finish line of my first 100 miler, and Joe Pursitis handed me a sub-24 hour buckle. I had proven exactly what I told a some people only days before. Ultras are run in your head.