What Have We Done?

The value in running 200 miles is different for everyone. I’ve talked about this before and deep down it functions as an opportunity for me to show myself that limits are just a story. An idea we create. An ephemeral, groundless notion that can be shown to be made up, leaving behind an incredible sense of possibility that can be applied to so many other places in life.

But how do you keep proving that by doing it again? Haven’t I already proven it once? Well, as Heraclitus might have offered, no one ever runs a 200 miler twice. Because the race isn’t the same, and neither is the person. I am not who I was. Physically, mentally, or emotionally. The limits I thought I had before are not what I think I have now. And the challenge I needed then is not what I need now.

Doug and I have done a bunch of these (7 or 8 depending on whether you count the 160 miles of Oregon before the fire) . And they are all hard. Some harder than others but all really, really hard. But with a few exceptions (Bigfoot solo, eg) they don’t seem so impossible anymore. I know we’ll struggle, but will we really find that transformative experience from a race we’ve already done, or one that seems a lot like another? Nothing wrong with repeating races - we’ve done it and I love the adventure and community in all of them.  But how do we find a challenge that seeds the self-doubt and invites the fear that I’m not up to it? That creates the moment when I start to believe that I’m simply not enough and everything boils down to a choice to give up or continue? 

Well, as it turns out, we just have to figure out what makes races the hardest for us, and we lean into that. Like really lean in. We build an enormous problem to solve.

At Tahoe in 2022 and 2024 we had decent races, but it was clear that we really struggled with altitude. No appetite, trouble sleeping, and deep crawling fatigue at summits. At Copper Kings 100 in 2025 we really cracked at the high points. It became clear that the heat training and fitness we had brought with us was just not enough for 8000+ feet of altitude. As we talked after Butte we decided that from now on we would be looking for 200s at lower elevation. Oregon, Southern States, Divide, etc.

But as we started planning this year we started thinking about that a little deeper. Why would we deliberately avoid the element hardest for us? Why would we seek out the comfortable, “easy” conditions when the whole point is to figure out how to solve a monumental challenge? Who cares about pace or where we finish. The whole point is self-discovery. 

So instead, we’ll deliberately seek out altitude. And not just once. We’ll do 2 high altitude 200 milers in one month. We’ll do a “washing machine” at Copper Kings, running the course in reverse before the race starts, then running the 100 mile race with everyone else. Then 4 weeks later we’ll run the Summit 200 in Colorado, which is between 10,000-12,000 feet the whole time. Now THAT is scary.

Just writing it down brings back the feeling we had before our first 200 at Bigfoot. The sense that we have bitten off more than we could chew, that we don’t know what we were doing and there is a very real possibility that we cannot do this. This feels like a new level and the doubt here is very real. Perfect.

The race cutoff for CK is 40 hours, so we’ll start our clockwise loop at noon Wednesday, 40 hours before the official race start at 4am Friday morning. Then we’ll have 40 hours to finish, meaning 80 total. Most of our 200s have been between 75 hours at Tahoe to 84 hours at Bigfoot and Divide (the shit-show at inaugural Cocodona doesn’t count). 80 hours to finish a double Copper Kings for us will not be easy. Thankfully we get to run it again with the Rundles (Nate for the 100 and Audra for the whole enchilada) and will have a crew, but we’ll have to deal with the unfamiliar and uncomfortable prospect of fighting cutoffs the whole second half. If we get that far.

And then 30 days later, we line up in Colorado and run another 200 mile race ~3000 feet higher up. This one really scares me. Can we even run at 10000 feet? A week in Butte the month before has to help, but we will still be coming from sea level. And while it seems to be a fair amount of jeep road and not as much gain as some other races, the Summit course looks like no joke. This is easily the biggest challenge we have ever done. Don’t get me wrong - I’m not Adam Williams and this isn’t 9 200s in a season (jeesh), but for a couple of rickety geezers, it ain’t nothing. Welcome back fear, nice to see you again.

One of my favorite parts of these races is the problem solving. And we have built a huge problem. With 5 months to go, we are both focusing on strength and durability. Because with 4 months to go, we will be building up to a huge volume. The strength training will continue, but there will be a lot more weighted hiking than in the past and as much vert as we can find. Its always hard not to run all the time but these events will come down to moving quickly hiking (especially Summit) and the ability to tolerate huge miles without breaking down. There will be big back-to-back weekends and some long days in the bluffs of Devils Lake. And heat. A lot of heat. But I have not felt this motivated for a while. Mostly because I have been this intimidated by a looming project like this for years. Such a huge problem to solve. And another chance to find out what I do when it is just unbelievably hard. Can’t wait.