Out there in the wild, on a long journey, you hike your own hike, blaze your own trail, and only you can find what you’re looking for.

We often think we can’t go any farther and feel like we have nothing left to give, yet there is a hidden potential and strength in all of us, begging us to find it.

Not all pain is significant.

It was just numbers. I knew I could outrun numbers.

The question became less and less theoretical in Vermont, where I started to come up against my own limits. I’ve heard it said that ultra marathons are 90 percent mental. And the other 10 percent? That’s mental too. I was in the thick of that other 10 percent.

Random thinking is the enemy of the ultramarathoner. Thinking is best used for the primitive essentials: when I ate last, the distance to the next aid station, the location of the competition, my pace. Other than those considerations, the key is to become immersed in the present moment where nothing else matters.

Running efficiently demands good technique, and running efficiently for 100 miles demands great technique.

In the case of pain, perhaps the one we know hurts us less than the one we fear.

My injury provided a great excuse to lose. But I didn’t want an excuse.

Our existence is always like this: the same but different, light then dark, found now lost, here and there and back again.