You will want to quit. More than once.

Support is not optional for big commitments.

Your journey matters to others and their journeys matter to you.

At some point in the night, every long ultra race stops being about strength and becomes a conversation between your body and your will. And if you stay out there long enough, something else enters the conversation too: the undeniable realization that you cannot do this alone.

Back in March, I participated in the Badger Mountain Challenge—a 50-mile race that turned out to be the single hardest race I’ve ever done.

I pinned bib number 399 to the left leg of my running tights in the early morning hours, stood at the start line with that singular combination of excitement and terror that comes with big commitments, and tried to go through my list in my head one more time. Headlamp? Yep. Extra battery pack for my phone? Uh huh! Food and liquid to keep me going between aid stations? Got it. Toilet paper for a full bladder between aid stations. In my pocket. I was ready.

But 50 miles isn't just a distance—it’s a decision. One that you have to keep making, step after step, long after the initial adrenaline fades (which is in about 20 minutes if your first mile is straight up a mountain trail).

The early miles were hard but manageable. Even beautiful. There’s a beat you fall into in an endurance event. That rhythm of your feet is what you lean into when it dawns on you that hours from now, when everyone in your life is counting sheep, you’ll be step, step, stepping up another mountain trail. Just get into the groove!

By the time I was climbing the long, exposed hills later in the day, the sun was relentless. My legs were heavy. Every incline felt personal, as though the mountain itself had something to prove. I grew tired, naturally, but I........

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