There’s a lot of talk about ultra running. The freedom, the landscapes, the mental breakthroughs. You hear about runners finding themselves 70 miles deep into a forest with nothing but a headtorch and inner peace. Sounds beautiful, right?
But here’s the thing: there’s a whole lot they don’t tell you about ultra running. The stuff that doesn’t get posted under #ultragoals. The stuff that you only learn when you’ve lost toenails, cried over a manky sandwich or missed a Backyard Ultra lap by 12 fucking seconds.
This blog is for that stuff. The beautiful, brutal, ridiculous truth of ultra running.
1. You will pee in weird places. Easier if you’re a guy!
Bushes, ditches, behind trees, in the middle of a field pretending no one can see you. If you’re well-hydrated, you’re basically planning your race strategy around piss breaks – and the cruel irony is that the better you are at fuelling, the more often you’ll need to go.
And sometimes, one single piss break will cost you the race. (Still not over that one.)
2. Ultra running fuel becomes sacred, and also repulsive.
That snack you loved in training? You’ll hate it by mile 40. You’ll loathe it by mile 70. But you’ll eat it anyway because it’s calories and your brain has started arguing with your legs.
You’ll romanticise real food like it’s fine dining. Anything warm and not in a packet. A roast potato (yeah, it’s a thing!). A greasy slab of peanut butter on anything or a piece of watermelon plastered in salt. Heaven.
Also, be prepared to eat while moving. No time to chew properly? That’s fine. Choke it down and keep running.
3. The highs are high. The lows are dark. Real fucking dark!
People say ultra running is a mental game – and they’re right. One minute you’re flying. The next you’re questioning every life decision that led to this moment. You’ll swear never to race again. Then 10 minutes later you’re planning your next one.
And it’s not a gradual descent. It can switch in seconds.
That emotional yo-yo is part of the experience. The key is learning to ride it without letting go. Just keep doing them, the ‘enjoyment’ starts to outweigh the ‘unenjoyment’ (to a degree!).
4. DNFs hurt more than your legs.
There’s a pride in showing up. Everyone says, ‘It’s amazing you got as far as you did.’ And yes, that’s true. But when you’ve trained for months, when you know you had more in you – a DNF cuts deep, how ever it may of come about.
Especially when it’s by 12 seconds.
You carry it home with you. Lying awake replaying the moment. You stew in it. Because ultra running doesn’t just test your body. It tests your identity. And when that gets knocked, it’s personal.
But here’s the truth: failure doesn’t mean weakness. It means you had the guts to aim for something that wasn’t guaranteed. And that’s where the growth lives.
5. You learn who you are – and who you’re not.
Ultras strip you down. Ego gets burned off in the first 20 miles. Excuses fall away after the first setback. There’s no faking it when you’re broken, sore and running on nothing but stubbornness.
And in that space, you meet yourself – the real version. Not the polished social media one. The one who makes decisions at 3am on no sleep, with hurty feet and still finds a reason to keep going.
That person? They’re worth meeting.
6. The ultra running community is everything.
You may run alone, but you are never alone in this sport. Every checkpoint, every sideline cheer, every nod from a fellow runner in the pain cave – it means something. You’re both in the same place, you’re sharing the same pain and you’re striving for the same thing.
Ultra runners look out for each other. We get it. We’ve been there. We’ve sat on the ground questioning everything and still got back up. So we support the next person doing the same.
As a couple of guys have coined, Jenks uses it all the time and it’s a great ethos – ‘Death Before DNF’.
7. No one’s actually good at this. Except the ones that are good!
Sure, there are elites. But even they puke, cramp, cry and walk. Ultras aren’t about perfection. They’re about persistence.
Most of us are out here just trying to see what we’re made of. Trying to prove – to ourselves more than anyone – that we’ve got something more in us.
Sometimes we find it. Sometimes we don’t.
But we always come back to look again.
…And the guys and gals who are awesome at this, my brain can’t fathom how you do it, so kudos to you!
Final Thoughts
Ultra running is not glamorous. It’s not always Instagrammable. It’s muddy, slow, emotional, sweaty and sometimes disappointing as fuck.
But it’s also where you find something real.
Because out there – in the wilderness, in the silence, in the hunger, cold, rain, heat and heartbreak – you figure out what matters. And you realise it’s not about medals, PBs or finish lines.
It’s about who you become when things get really fucking hard – and you keep going anyway. We’re just built differently, and that’s why the community is so solid and welcoming. We’re all a bit fucking mental!
Thinking of getting into ultra running?
Just remember: it’s harder than they say, messier than you expect, and more beautiful than you can imagine.
And when you’re 12 seconds too late, it still counts. (Sorry, I haven’t avenged this yet, so I’ll keep harping on about this one!).
Because you showed up. And that always counts.
How would I describe ultra running? Well, a picture paints a thousand words, so a smile and a middle finger just about sums it up!
