My friend and long-time adventure collaborator, Scott Martin, impressed upon me the unique challenge that is the Plain 100+. It is a 100-mile race with no course markers, aid stations, crew, or pacers--and with limited natural water to draw. The navigation is wonky. The terrain is either rocky or horribly dusty. It has a decent amount of vert, a massive climb through a dry stretch, a relatively aggressive cutoff time, and is quite a bit longer than 100 miles. If you manage all of this, all you get in return is a rock. I signed up for my first attempt in 2017, when I had never run more than 70 miles in one stretch.

The first year, I went off-course about four miles into the race, immediately tacking an extra four miles onto its unknown actual distance. After 31+ hours of pain, hornet stings, dehydration, thrashed quads, and a deep state of delirium, I crossed the finish line with Scott and a new friend, Nate, who joined us for the final 43 miles of one of the United States' hardest 100-milers (or ~112 miles in my case). I had my first "Plain 100" rock.

Two years later, I couldn't shake the feeling that I could do better. I had improved my training, tactics, and attitude, and wanted to put it to the test. I also needed bookends for my small library of mountaineering books, and one rock wasn't cutting it. I signed up. I went through the pain, hornet stings, and delirium again--less the navigation errors--and got my second rock.

Two years later, I wanted to see where I was at, so I signed up again. I had the course pretty much committed to memory. I ran with Scott most of the time and we shared second place at lightning pace (relatively speaking), until I wound up injured near the end of the course and walked in the final eighteen miles. I still got a PR, and my third rock.

In 2024, I became the third person ever to complete Plain five times--earning the coveted "500+ Miles of Pain" belt buckle--and without ever once DNFing (though I have come close). That fifth lap was performed on auto. I just kept to myself, enjoyed the journey, and navigated by memory. Lap four may have been my favorite--when I took the first 100k easy, then hammered the entire back third of the course right to the end.

The Plain 100+ has become something very special to me. Every ordeal in life can be chalked up to "Plain training". Scott and I can often be heard saying "this is great training for Plain" when anything awful happens. Plain is a test of one's resolve. When that test is passed, the next year or two of life is made that much easier. With a finish in recent memory, any day-to-day challenge "isn't as hard as Plain".