Knowing the difference between a reason and an excuse means you never have to worry you’re using the wrong one.

When you can’t tell the difference, you worry you’ll regret a decision.

Is it ok to skip an important long run for another priority?

This year, for the first time in 19 years, I wasn’t sure I could finish Massanutten 100.

I’d just DNF’d easier Zumbro 100, in part because I underestimated things, so I wanted to take the much harder Massanutten seriously.

I wasn’t going to underestimate this race.

You have people willing to crew - now what??

Assuming they know what to do or that it’s obvious is a recipe for disaster.

Here are five basic steps to make your ‘now what’ a smooth success.

“Should I have a crew?”

When I get this question the runner is looking for my yes/no answer.

You might be there now - confused and wanting to know the right choice.

But no one else can answer for you. You’re going to have to decide.

I came into Massanutten 100 this year wanting to run well.

After getting pulled at Zumbro 100 the month before, I wanted to get back to finishing 100s.

But I wasn’t close to being trained like normal for Massanutten, so I decided to run the highest pace that felt sustainable for 100 miles at my current fitness - slower than usual.

A few sections into the race, I checked my cushion on cutoff.

I DNF’d my last 100 - Zumbro - and now, a month later, I’m facing Massanutten 100.

Massanutten is a infinitely more technical course. It’s motto is “Massanutten rocks” for a reason and it has 5000 ft. more climb.

In other words, it’s much harder.

And I haven’t done anything extra since Zumbro to prepare.

So it’s easy to believe I’m going to do worse.

I DNF’d my last 100 - Zumbro - and now, a month later, I’m facing Massanutten 100.

Massanutten is a infinitely more technical course. It’s motto is “Massanutten rocks” for a reason and it has 5000 ft. more climb.

In other words, it’s much harder.

And I haven’t done anything extra since Zumbro to prepare.

So it’s easy to believe I’m going to do worse.

You’re a badass.

You’re the person that can do that impossible race and you know it.

You feel strong, confident, and willing to dare that epic race course.

At least that’s who you want to be.

Last weekend, I ran my third Run Under the Stars 12-hour race.

The race starts at 6pm Saturday and ends 6am Sunday - night miles.

It’s local and a perfect long run for Massanutten 100 three weeks later but I’d run it anyway for the easy, old school vibe and watching everyone go for their goals.

I wanted to get 40-45 miles while seeing friends and meeting new ones.

This is the second half of Aron Johnson’s race at Rocky Raccoon 100.

For background, the Texas race is 5 Loops of 20 miles. Cutoff for a Western States (WS) ticket is 30 hours. Race cutoff is 32 hours.

On Loops 1 and 2, Aron flipped the first switch - accepted it wasn’t likely to be a WS ticket day and would be longer and tougher than planned.

She spent Loops 3 and 4 grateful for all the things still going well, and felt better.

Now…

This week, I’m sharing Aron Johnson’s unique experience at Rocky Raccoon 100 in her words because it’s a great example of what’s possible for you in a 100.

Aron has been running ultras since at least 2003 and has four 100-mile finishes before this race, the last being Rocky Raccoon 100 in 2020.

I’m presenting her race in two parts because she has two fantastic examples of “flipping a mental switch.”

Taper anxiety.

A simple 6-mile run almost kills you even though you felt strong on your peak long run just two weeks ago.

You tweak your ankle and convince yourself it’s broken.

A recent article used me as a data point to make a case for “why you should return to the starting line of the 100-mile ultramarathon you finished at least once before, even if you already have the belt buckle.”

The reason: improving your performance.

The analysis has flaws, like glossing over major course changes (Superior 100 has had more than four, Massanutten 100 more than three), weather, injuries, and what’s going on in the runner’s life that year.

Imagine finally standing at the start of your big race, well behind the pros, amid all the chatter and last-minute announcements, watching all the confident, smiling, laughing runners around you.

You want to belong like they do.

You definitely don’t want to be ‘that’ runner - the one that sticks out as obviously not belonging.

One of my fabulous clients started out seeing herself as weak.

Comparing herself to famous ultrarunners like Courtney Dauwalter didn’t help.

They were so strong over tough courses, against the weather…through everything.

As ultrarunners, doing our best means we have to do more than be mentally strong enough to run an impossible distance.

We have to understand what impairs that ability.

One of the biggest is what I call Fatigue Brain.

You already know mental strength is important.

You know it sets the badass ultrarunners apart.

And you know you should be doing something about building it.

You’re smart and a hard worker - you’re sure you can.

It’s just…how?

On my two-week trip to New Zealand for the Tarawera 100, I faced a daunting amount of unknown.

So much that I almost didn’t know how to imagine the trip.

How hard would it be to get around, did I get the right accommodations, would the phone plan actually work, was I packing right, was I planning too much or two little…? And I hadn’t even nailed down plans for the second, post-race week.

Ultrarunning makes your life better.

And mastering strategy and mindset - what I coach - triples that benefit.

One - it obviously improves your ultrarunning…

You know that moment?

You’re in the aid station at night by the bright, warm fire and it’s cold, your feet hurt, your legs feel stiff as boards and for the moment, you don’t have to move.

Then you glance over at the trail out of the aid station, into the dark.