Black Canyons 100K: Learning How to Live With Uncertainty

Uncertainty.

This word has been the theme of the past year of my life. It’s also what has made this past year of my life the most challenging one since college. Uncertainty is uncomfortable because it usually means there is an outcome that is out of our control or unknown. This is difficult for us because part of the human condition is that we like being in control. I’ve noticed over the years that the root cause of many mental challenges our athletes and clients face has to do with learning to cope with a lack of control, or in other words, uncertainty.

Sometimes I create stories in my head to try and cope with the uncertainty. I tell myself fables that make the uncertainty a little more certain. However, when it comes down to toeing the line at my first 100K tomorrow, I know that I will be staring uncertainty in the eye with nowhere to hide. With no fairytales to cower behind.

Will my body hold up for over at least 10 hours of running and the longest distance I’ve ever run in my life?

Will my fueling strategy work?

What will conditions be like on race day?

Will I be able to handle the pounding Arizona sun in the desert with no tree cover? 

Did I do enough in my training to prepare?

What will my attitude be like when the inevitable challenges arise and things go wrong?

Will I see the finish line?

Luckily, there’s an antidote to uncertainty. Presence. When we focus on right now, our mind is not ruminating on all of these questions. We always tell our athletes, don’t focus on the outcome. Focus on the process. Focus on what you can do right now.

Presence is something we practice in order to be able to handle uncertainty more gracefully. This is where meditation comes in. This is where mindfulness practices come in. Presence takes practice.

And hey, no matter how much you practice, uncertainty isn’t going anywhere. So our only choice is to become better friends with it and learn how to catch the mind before it gets sucked up in the storylines that uncertainty loves to feed us.

Way easier said than done. It’s hard to become friends with something that can cause so much inner turmoil. I’ve cried a handful of times in the past year due to how unsettling and terrifying uncertainty is. I’ve gone to therapy religiously every week, sometimes even twice a week, to work on how to deal with all the uncertainties I’m facing in life.

My therapist, who I credit for getting me to the starting line of tomorrow’s race, helped me see that I have to approach these major uncertainties in my life just like my 100K ultramarathon. I can’t be focused on the finish line at kilometer 100 when the starting gun goes off. I have to bring my focus to what I can do in this moment, the only moment I CAN control. The first step, then the second step, then the third step… Hopefully these steps eventually lead to the finish line. But if I am only focused on the finish line, the uncertainty will degrade my focus. Anxiety, nerves, fear, and doubt all undermine concentration. And tomorrow, I will need to concentrate.

My practice has taught me that we can actually befriend uncertainty, through mindfulness. Uncertainty always exists. It doesn’t have to hijack our thoughts.

Mindfulness = Bringing our awareness to the present moment without judgement. 

So rather than letting our judgemental mind come up with all these stories of what COULD happen, we can be curious of what IS happening in this moment. By replacing anxiety with curiosity, uncertainty and the unknown can actually create space for excitement! 

So that’s what I plan to do when I toe the line of the Black Canyon 100K tomorrow. Rather than focus on the finish line, I will focus on the first step. Step by step, maybe we’ll reach the finish line. Maybe not. Within that mystery lies the beauty of sport: the outcome is always uncertain. 

Tomorrow my personal goals won’t be about winning or hitting a certain time. It will be about exploring uncertainty and the great unknown of our human limits with a childlike curiosity. Similar to a kid building his first sandcastle. You never knew if it would fall once you took the sand bucket off. If it did, you’d try again. Maybe with some tears in between.

Tomorrow there will most likely be tears. Either of joy at the finish line or of disappointment on the side of the trail, stranded in the middle of nowhere in the Black Canyon in Arizona. Either way, no matter whether the sandcastle crumbles when the sand bucket is taken off, I will continue to try again. I will continue to explore the unknown. To explore the gifts of uncertainty.

Let it rip,

Ethan