There’s a strange moment that comes with preparing for something this big.

You know you’ve done the work. You know you’ve put the miles in, climbed the hills, pushed through the sessions when you didn’t feel like it.

And yet, the closer it gets, the more you realise just how much is still waiting for you.

My biggest challenge yet is coming:

280km. 11,000 metres of climbing.

And honestly?

I don’t want it to be easy.

I don’t want perfect weather.
I don’t want fresh legs all the way to the finish.
I don’t want everything to go according to plan.

I want hard.

Because if it was easy, what’s the point?

I Chose This

I’m no stranger to adversity.

I’ve had enough difficult experiences to know that when things get uncomfortable, you have two choices.

You can look for a way out.

Or you can find a way through.

Ultra running gives you plenty of opportunities to make that choice.

Eventually, the novelty wears off. The excitement disappears. The legs become heavy. The feet hurt. Sleep becomes a distant memory. The climbs seem steeper than they did before, and the finish line feels like it’s moved further away.

That’s the part I want.

Not because I enjoy suffering for the sake of suffering.

But because that’s where you find out who you really are.

Anyone can keep going when everything feels good.

I’m interested in what happens when it doesn’t.

Give Me The Hard Days

I’ve never understood the obsession with making everything easier.

Of course, there are days when an easy run is exactly what’s needed.

But that’s not what I’m chasing here.

I want the days that make me question myself.

I want the sessions where I finish completely spent.

I want the climbs that make my legs burn.

I want the moments where my brain tells me I’ve had enough.

Because those are the moments that build something.

Strength isn’t built when everything is comfortable.

Resilience isn’t developed when nothing goes wrong.

You build it when you’re tired and keep going.

When you’re hurting and keep moving.

When nobody is forcing you to continue, but you choose to anyway.

The Real Challenge

The distance is intimidating.

The elevation is intimidating.

But the numbers aren’t what scare me most.

It’s the unknown.

I don’t know exactly what I’m going to feel at kilometre 150.

I don’t know what my head will be telling me at 200.

I don’t know how my body will respond when I’ve already spent hours and hours asking it for more.

And I don’t need to know.

That’s what makes it a challenge.

I’m not looking for certainty.

I’m looking for an opportunity to push myself further than I’ve ever gone before.

To find the point where comfort disappears.

Then keep going beyond it.

When It Gets Dark

At some point, it will get dark.

Not just outside.

Inside my head too.

There will be doubt.

There will be pain.

There will be moments when stopping will feel completely reasonable.

That’s when all the preparation matters.

Not because training can

Mike

UltraEnduranceLab