The One Thing You Always Control

Your race is a big deal and you want to make it the best it can be.

You work hard to make sure everything goes as planned - pace, nutrition, hydration, pacer, crew, drop bags, aid station stops…

So it’s frustrating when things outside your control sabotage that.

That’s where I was two weeks ago in Ring the Springs 100.

Race management failed to provide the basic navigation and communication you’d expect in a 100-mile race.

There weren’t enough markers to prevent confusion, reflective markers were virtually nonexistent and the GPX file runners relied on in the absence of markings was wrong.

Race management also knew about a major re-route two days before the race but didn’t tell runners.

I worked harder than I knew I could on the tough part - the initial 20 mile climb up 11,488’ Mt. Rosa - and it was incredibly frustrating to watch all that hard work disappear in a million little stops to check navigation and get un-lost on the easy part.

When problems outside your control make it hard to finish, holding the frustration back takes work. When the problems are bad enough or go on long enough, you hit a point where it’s easier to lash out in frustration and quit.

“What’s the use,” you think. “I’m not going to make it anyway.”

You end up losing control - the frustration controls you.

It happens when you argue with the reality of the situation.

One part of my brain really wanted to do that at Ring the Springs. I’ve been in the sport for 27 years and run 100s of ultras - 146 of them 100-mile races - and never run a race this bad.

The race markings shouldn’t be that non-existent over that many miles. Vandalism can’t explain 60 miles of it.

The GPX file should be right. That’s a simple race basic. If this was a remote course, runner safety would have been at risk.

And we should absolutely have been told about the re-route. It’s mind-boggling that race officials knew for two days and didn’t tell us.

There’s no excuse for any of it.

So every time I had to stop at an intersection, pull my phone out and check the GPX to see which way to go or how to get back on course for the umpteenth time, I felt an over-powering urge to take my pack off, slam it on the ground and yell with all my might, “I QUIT!!!”

But I didn’t because I still had control of the one thing you always control in any situation - your mind.

Instead of needing the situation to change for you to run better (maybe impossible), you can change your thinking about the situation to run better (easy).

It’s a simple process.

At Ring the Springs 100, I couldn’t change the markings, the GPX file or race management…but I could control how I let those things affect my thinking.

I wanted to finish this race and losing my cool, no matter how justified, wasn’t going to help me do it, so I thought:

“I’m still here to finish.”

“I’m stronger than the situation I’m in”.

“I’m smarter than to let frustration trick me into quitting.”

“I’m in charge.”

The ‘throw my pack down and quit’ fantasy still flashed into my head every unmarked intersection. I let it.

Of course I was frustrated. It was understandable. I didn’t have to pretend not to be.

But I also didn’t have to react to it. It was more important to keep doing my best.

As a result, I had only 12 miles left when I got pulled (which is another story).

This race is an extreme example that when you control your thinking like this, even extreme situations can’t get the better of you.

You don’t get freaked out by strong emotion or the urge to quit.

You stay focused and make smart, intentional decisions that get you closer to your goal.

A race is never hopeless. Even when everything else is out of your control, you always have one thing: how you think about it.

And that’s everything.