Eff Around and Find Out: A 100K Experiment

Or: this may be a cautionary tale in the making...stay tuned.

There’s something beautiful about not knowing what will happen next. That moment before the first step, where logic, planning, and doubt collide with pure curiosity. The internet may use “eff around and find out” as a warning, but I like to think of it as an invitation. Because I want to find out. I need to know what I can do. And that’s how I found myself signed up for a 100K race, with a plan to NOT train in a traditional sense.

The Pistol 100K is a long-haul race with a generous cutoff time—long enough that I realized I could walk it. Not shuffle in defeat, not power-hike out of desperation, but walk with purpose. So instead of racking up running miles in preparation, I’ve spent my time building strength and walking long distances. I have enough self-awareness to know that even when I am at my best, I am only a mediocre runner. But what if I tackle this distance as a strong walker?

Photo: Walking to the finish of the 2024 Pistol 50K with Andrea, the truest friend anyone could ever ask for.

This isn’t a cautionary tale. This isn’t a disaster in the making (I hope). This is an experiment. A test of what happens when you prepare in an unconventional way, ignore the traditional wisdom, and see if curiosity really can outrun fear.

The Plan (Or Lack Thereof)

Most runners approach an ultra with a rigorous training schedule: progressively longer runs, back-to-back long days, and detailed pacing strategies. I’ve done that in the past for races, and it has gotten me to the finish lines - upright and smiling - for countless marathons and multiple 50Ks.

But I also finished a 50 mile fun run with friends doing, armed with nothing but a positive attitude and good company.

So this endeavor will be a blend - I’ve been spending hours on the stairclimber, I’ve been doing heavy lifting, weighted carries, and taking long walks. It’s not that I don’t respect the distance—I do. But I also know that when I’m out there for 20+ hours, strength and durability matter more than speed for me.

I’m not a reckless gambler rolling the dice on race day. I’m a scientist in my own personal lab, testing a hypothesis: Can you train for a 100K without actually running much?

The Mental Game

Physical preparation is one thing, but ultras are won or lost in the mind. You have to be willing to keep moving forward when your legs are tired, your feet hurt, and your brain is offering you a very persuasive argument about quitting. The trick is to ignore the negotiation.

Training for this hasn’t just been about walking and lifting; it’s been about showing up. Walking in the rain when I’d rather be inside. Getting outside when it’s cold, when it’s dark, when my couch is whispering sweet nothings to me. Because on race day, there will be a moment (or perhaps a few dozen moments) where I want to stop. Where the finish line feels too far, and everything in me screams to sit down. But I’ve practiced overriding that voice. I’ve learned that discomfort is temporary, that persistence wins, and that moving forward—even slowly—is still moving forward.

The Beauty of Finding Out

What’s the worst that could happen? (Don’t answer that.) Sure, I could get blisters the size of silver dollars, my legs could stage a full rebellion, and I might find myself negotiating with the universe at mile 50. But even if it all goes sideways, I will know. And that’s the point. Too often, we let the fear of failure stop us before we even start. But what if we just… tried? What if we embraced the unknown with open arms and sturdy legs?

Maybe I’ll cross that finish line victorious, or maybe I’ll learn exactly how far I can go before my body files for divorce. Either way, I’ll have an answer. And that, to me, is worth everything.