Ode to the Ultra(marathon) Spouse

I often run off to play in the mountains with an amazing group of women. They’re all accomplished, funny, supportive, badass ladies who enjoy running through sand, mud, and snow to reach scenic vistas that inspire and invigorate our souls. These excursions can be as short as an hour, or as long as a few days. These incredible women manage to balance a family life, a career, as well as the fantastic (but time-sucking) hobby of ultramarathoning. As our goals continue to increase in scope through the years, one other piece of this balancing act has come into play: the Ultra(marathon) Spouse.

Running half and full marathons are socially accepted goals, and don’t appear too crazy to the layman. Upping the ante by saying you’d like to run an ultramarathon (50K, 50 miler, 100 miler, etc) might sound as ludicrous as, “I’d like to be an astronaut” to your spouse. The (sometimes) blissfully unaware spouse may have some reservations in the beginning, but they cheerfully support this new hobby, not knowing what it will mean for their home lives going forward. We runners like to pretend we’re just solitary creatures who are totally self-sufficient, but honestly… it’s a lie. We need a village to help us succeed, and this is just one facet of that phenomenal community. We could NOT achieve our crazy goals without them.

I’ve always known my own Ultra Spouse (Adam) is fantastic. This year, however, I’ve been lucky enough to witness similar dedication, support, and joy from the other Ultra Spouses (Mike, Bill, Mark, Erin, and Therese, to name a few) of my badass friends. While it’s easy to just celebrate our race-day accomplishments, it’s important to acknowledge the behind-the-scenes action of what got us across the finish line. This post is to honor those unsuspecting (but brave) souls who take up the mantle of the Ultra Spouse.

THANK YOU, my wonderful Ultra Spouse, for…

1. Picking up the domestic slack. I spend the majority of my weekends training out in the wilderness. I come home dirty and exhausted, and unable to contribute much to keeping our home habitable. You don’t bat an eye, and make sure our basic needs are met. We don’t have kids, for those ultramarathoners that do… there’s clearly extra energy expenditure in that arena. You even understand if I have to take a nap when I get home, while you’ve been doing the chores instead of spending hours playing training on the trails.
2. Supporting my ambitious goals. I choose these (seemingly ridiculous) goals and instead of asking if I need therapy, you support me. Even if I’m scared, you remind me that I’m strong and I can do it. Faith in myself may waver now and then, so it’s really wonderful that you have an unshakable belief in my physical and mental ability to achieve my goal. This, of course, makes me realize I can take on bigger and bigger challenges, so it’s a bit of a ‘vicious’ cycle. You have become an enabler. But in the best kind of way!
3. Trusting in my ability to handle myself in the great outdoors. Training for ultras means a lot of time out on the trails (sometimes alone.) That means possibly sketchy creek crossings, navigation challenges, wildlife encounters, etc. However, I am not reckless, have taken Wilderness First Aid, and carry quite a bit in my running pack to be prepared (seriously, just pick it up, oof.) Most importantly, I carry the 10 Essentials, and carry a satellite communicator/tracker. You trust in my experience, that I am smart and competent, and will make the right decision out in the wilderness. Of course, it doesn’t mean I’m immune to accidents, or that I won’t come home with an entertaining story of mistaking a deer for a bear, or about how I went the wrong way and got some “bonus miles.” BUT, it’s meaningful that you don’t worry yourself sick, give me all of the reasons not to go, or pace until I get home (I think).
4. Tolerating my constant chatter about training runs and gear choices. We’ve established that training for an ultra takes up a lot of time. When I get home from a training run, guess what? I want to tell you about any or all weather conditions, gear failure, and bodily realizations during that run. (a.k.a. I tried a new fueling strategy and let me tell you all about the gastrointestinal pyrotechnics that ensued.) You’re welcome. Additionally, it’s likely I will become somewhat obsessed with gear, so don’t be alarmed with my growing collection of hydration packs and trail shoes. It’s important to have options for every scenario. (Or at least that’s how I rationalize the not insignificant pile of gear in my closet.) 
5. Only cringing a little when I’m in physical pain. It can’t be easy for a spouse to watch their partner mentally or physically unravel. Particularly when it’s for a voluntary event that I deem “fun.” Expulsion of tears, vomit, diarrhea, and blood are not uncommon during these crazy endeavors. Hallucinations and pronounced usage of foul language are also typical side effects. But you realize that achieving my goals is important to me and that the pain is (usually) temporary. I appreciate when you don’t make too much of a fuss, give me a kiss on my salt-and-dirt-encrusted cheek, hand me my pack, and push me out of the aid station. The accomplishment is worth the pain, so I’m grateful you remember my conviction, even if I temporarily forget it at mile 75.
6. Being willing to drive to remote locations and/or staying up all night. Driving around in the woods at all hours of the day and night to get to an aid station to wait for an unspecified amount of time to cater to a dirty, tired, and less-than-mannerly runner… that’s a big ask, and I’m grateful you don’t seem to mind the adventure (and haven’t had a Sasquatch encounter out there…yet.) Crewing combines the attentiveness of a Nascar pit crew with the excitement of watching paint dry. It’s professional waiting at it’s finest,. While it can be dull, seeing you at an aid station after running for hours alone can be the thing that brings me back to life.
7. Wanting to be a part of it in any way you can. Some partners just want to support from home, some by crewing the race, and some by pacing a runner. Everyone wants to be a part of something epic, and the more you’re around it, the more addicting it can become. The ultramarathoning community is particularly wonderful since everyone really just wants to see every runner succeed and will go to great lengths to make it happen. Witnessing this is not only inspiring for the runners, but for the partners as well. I heard this from a few Ultra Spouses this year, who were pleasantly surprised at how strangers and friends alike give clothing, food, time, and energy in order to ensure success for a runner. (Disclaimer: if you’re a runner, be wary of how inspiring this community can be. It might encourage your Ultra Spouse to start racing themselves! Then you may be left without a crew, and your house may fall apart. True story. 😉 )

Here’s the thing. Achieving these crazy goals is important to me, otherwise I wouldn’t pursue it. But the truly special part is having your unconditional love and support throughout my journey, and getting to celebrate this accomplishment together. Ultramarathons have a way of stripping a runner raw (emotionally and yes, physically too.) That’s when we’re at our most vulnerable, and also our strongest. The highs and lows of this journey are what makes it meaningful, and of course I want to share it with my life partner. So thank you for being there for me (and supporting my choice to run around with like-minded yahoos in the forest for hours on end.) Seriously, you’re the BEST.

Ultramarathoners – what would you like to thank your Ultra Spouse for?