Why the Sean O'Brien 100k Is So Damn Tough (It's not just the Course)

     The Sean O’Brien 100k is really freaking tough. There’s 13,000 feet of elevation gain, and you only have 16 hours to complete it—that’s no joke. But the thing is, ultra marathon runners are tough people. They know what they’re getting themselves into, and most of Sean O’Brien’s competitors have run longer and harder races before. Due to a variety of unseen factors, however, the race is a DNF machine, sending dozens of experienced ultrarunners back to the start/finish area without a finisher’s medal to take home. It’s not the course or the time cutoff that makes this race so challenging, however, but the unusual ease of quitting that doesn’t exist at the majority of ultra marathons. It possesses a remarkable ability to get in your head, and every year dozens of runners allow it to do just that.  

     For starters, the race dangles the finish line and your accompanying car (and hence food, shower, hotel) in front of your face at a variety of points. At mile 43, the 50-mile competitors and the 100k competitors part ways. The 50 milers are in the home stretch with just a runnable seven mile descent to the finish line. The 100k runners are on their way to the crux, a section of the course that can make or break a race. On top of a six mile descent that loses 2,000 feet of elevation in one direction, they have to turn around and climb 2,000 feet back, before finally starting the descent to the finish. After running 43 miles, that’s not exactly an easy task, but what makes this spot such a killer is the fact that organizers ask participants if they intend to continue on the 100k course, or if they’d rather take the 50 mile route and receive an official finish in just 7 easy miles. This dangling carrot lures countless 100k runners away from their attempt of finishing the race they signed up for.

     But for those who weren’t fooled by that carrot, another challenge lies ahead. At the bottom of their six mile descent (mile 49) runners find themselves just a mile as the crow flies from the start/finish area to their car. They are then faced with the question, will they begin climbing a 2,000 foot dirt road up a mountain, and then run another 7 miles, or should they just limp slowly on a dirt path for a few minutes to the comfort of their vehicle, and go home with a DNF? Of course, the correct answer is to turn around and start trudging back up the mountain, but avoiding temptation is easier said than done. 

     Finally, most races allow you to place human reminders of your ambitions at various points along the course, while the Sean O’Brien 100k does not. Unlike races of similar length, there are no crews, pacers, or spectators allowed. Not having a crew does a lot more than add a few minutes to your time for filling bottles and grabbing gear. Crews are vital because crew members serve as sober people to remind you of who you are when you’ve lost your mind from running for 10 hours. No matter how excited you were to run this race, and how much money you’ve spent, after 50 miles you will be drunk on pain. Your brain, body, and spirit have a powerful underlying agenda that says, “Stop now, end the pain, and go recover,” and if you don’t have friends and family on hand to remind you how excited you were to take on this challenge, it’s all too easy to give in to the agenda. 

     And so it all comes down to an internal debate that rages in the head of a runner. When you are 20 miles into the forest, surrounded by friends and family, that debate is a little quieter. And when you are 50 miles into the most painful experience of your year, tasked with deciding whether to prolong the suffering for four more hours, or to take the easy way out, that debate rages on. But the pain of waking up the next morning having not accomplished what you showed up for is almost always worse than those final four hours. You just have to silence the debate.