Running and UltraRunning

DNF’s and DNS’s

Finishing an ultramarathon is a complex challenge that takes months and sometimes years of preparation and training. And sometimes you do not finish (DNF) or do not (even) show (DNS) Running is a most honest endeavor where your efforts have predictable effects on future performance. There is no faking it. The result is tied to your effort, and your effort is know by you. The joy from successfully navigating all the challenges to a finish is commensurate with the challenge of the effort and the risk of failure. I learned to take running and ultramarathons seriously, to commit to something difficult knowing I could fail. I learned how to be honest with myself, how to give the best effort within me. I learned that sometimes we give everything we have to something in life, and sometimes its not enough.

I’ve listed my races below, finishing times, DNFs and DNSs. My intention is not to impress because these races and effort ti prepare and train only matter to me. This is my record. I want to show that taking yourself seriously matters. That it matters to take on challenges and big things and commit our effort knowing we may fail. We will learn something valuable about ourselves and in so doing others. We will learn thta sometimes giving everything we have brings us joy and success and sometimes it is still not enough and we fail.

I did not finish (DNF) 13 ultramarathons, seven of them at 100 miles, including three additional attempts at the Leadville Trail 100 after finishing it in 2012 being my first ultramarathon. Five more were races I trained for but did not start (DNS) due to life circumstances, some in my control and some not.

A 100-mile race is long enough that the body, the weather, terrain, and the mind all eventually have their say, and there comes a point when the only real question is how to meet what is actually happening. Some of my DNFs taught me about pacing, preparation, and humility. Some taught me when stopping was the wiser choice. The year after I dropped out of the Kodiak 100, I went back and finished it. The races I prepared for and never started taught me something too: a goal can be worth working toward even when life decides otherwise. Persistence is less about force than about returning, again and again, to what you care about.