Brenda Phillips, of Plainfield, plans to run eight marathons in eight weeks, starting with the Vermont City Marathon on Memorial Day weekend. By the time she has accomplished this feat, most would agree that she will have earned a well-deserved rest. Except for Phillips. Why not? “Those runs are just part of my training,” Phillips said.

And for what, exactly, is she training?

The Vermont 100 Endurance Run is New England’s only 100-miler, and it is one of the country’s oldest “ultras.” An ultra, according to race organizer Jim Hutchinson, “is the word for any footrace longer than a marathon.” The Vermont 100 is one of four 100-milers around the United States that make up the Grand Slam of ultrarunning.

Brenda Phillips of Plainfield plans to run eight marathons in eight weeks training for the Vermont 100. Photos courtesy of Jan Leja

The Vermont 100

The Vermont event, held in West Windsor, is also unique in that it is the only remaining combination human 100-miler/ horse-and-rider 100-miler in the country. This is appropriate because the sport of ultrarunning descended from endurance riding. In 1974 Gordy Ainsleigh, an equestrian rider, was preparing for the Western States 24-hour trail ride in California’s Sierra Nevada mountains. At the last minute, Ainsleigh discovered his horse to be lame, but he still wanted to participate. “He showed up,” said Hutchinson, “at the starting line on foot, and the race director confronted him to say, ‘You can’t do this!’” Ainsleigh demanded to be shown in the race by-laws where it said he couldn’t race on foot. There was no rule specifically prohibiting runners, and ultrarunning was born. “In thirty years the sport has spread fairly rapidly,” Hutchinson said.

“Spread rapidly” is a relative term for a sport like ultrarunning. Seriously, how fast can a sport as grueling and as difficult as running 100 miles grow? It’s an activity, says Hutchinson, where you might find yourself lying in a ditch, throwing up on yourself. “And you convince yourself,” he said, “to get up and run some more.” Hutchinson tells it like it is, because it is important that people understand what they’re getting into.

Running a 100-miler is an extreme physical and mental challenge, and young ultrarunners are rare. The average age of the Vermont event, says Hutchinson, is around 38 to 42 years-old. “Even twenty-somethings are rare,” he said. Running these extreme distances isn’t something to jump into, or an endeavor to take lightly. Mental toughness—the kind built by years, experience, and lots of running—is mandatory.

So when the 34-year-old Phillips lines up at the start of her second Vermont 100 on July 19th, it will be as a relative novice and as one of the younger participants. “I volunteered at the Vermont 100 two years ago,” she said, “and was just inspired by some of the athletes.” One of the runners who made an impact was Dot Helling, 58, of Montpelier, who has been running ultras for twenty years and has seen the sport grow. “It used to be a really small group,” said Helling, “and we were all like brothers and sisters. The circle has really grown; there are hundreds of ultrarunners now, where there used be dozens.”

In the state of Vermont, however, Helling estimates that there are still just handfuls of ultra runners. “But there are more than three,” she laughed, “and that’s how many there used to be!”

Most recreational runners never come close to running an ultra; in fact, many would have trouble comprehending what it would be like to run 100 miles, or why anyone would want to. “There are,” said Hutchinson, “at least as many answers to that question as there are ultra runners, because everybody competes for a different reason.” Some participate for the competition, and some simply to challenge themselves. Often, ultrarunners and their families plan their vacations and travels around races and running events. Most ultra participants, however, and particularly those who continue to do it, are moved by the camaraderie they experience and build out on trails in the woods during the events.

Tight Bonds

Ultrarunners form strong friendships and alliances during the hours and hours that they spend pushing and challenging themselves to go farther then they thought possible. And because the distances in ultras are so far, and they take so long—anywhere from 14 to 30 hours—to complete, most participants (with the exception of the most highly competitive) walk, talk, and socialize during the races. “Some of my best friends,” said Helling, “are people I met on the trail.”

For example, at an out-of-state, there-and-back-style trail run in the 1980s, Helling recognized Laura Farrell who was leading the pack after the turn-around point. “You’re the woman from Vermont,” Helling called out. “No,” answered Farrell, “you’re the woman from Vermont!”

Helling and Farrell became training partners and great friends. Through countless events and training runs over the years, they have shared experiences that two non-ultrarunning friends couldn’t have. “We’re tough,” said Helling, “and we so much enjoy what we’re doing. We go out and we run and run and run, and we talk and talk and talk, and it doesn’t hurt when we’re together.”

Does this mean that the secret to eliminating pain and suffering at ultra events is to find a chatty friend with whom to run? Not exactly.

Hutchinson, who has organized the Vermont 100 for seven years, sees two distinct portions in a 100-miler. The first 50 miles,” he said, “you run on training, conditioning, and knowledge of how to run a long ways. The second 50 miles is a hundred percent mental—all will-power. It’s the ability to make yourself understand and believe that no matter how much you hurt—and you will hurt horribly—you can still go on.”

In addition, it is critical to know oneself. “I constantly check in with myself,” said Laura Farrell, “as I go along to see what I’m feeling like, and not ignoring how I feel.” Farrell performs these periodic check-ins throughout long-distance races. What hurts? What doesn’t hurt? How’s her head? Her stomach? Is she hungry? Is she hydrated? “This way,” she said, “when I come in to aid stations, I know what I need to do in order to take care of myself.”

Health And Safety

In ultra events, it is not just the participants who are concerned with health and safety. Safety, said Hutchinson, “is the priority.” In the Vermont 100, as in many ultra events, it is a requirement of entry that a runner have completed a 50-miler in less than twelve hours. This way, everyone in the race has at least some idea of what is involved. On the course are 30 aid stations—21 of which are staffed throughout the 30-hour duration of the race. All of the stations have water and electrolyte replacement drinks, and the manned stations have a wide variety of food too. Finally, there are four medical stations, where runners are required to stop and submit to short physical examinations and interviews. Part of the registration process prior to the race includes a physical, so that medical personnel have a baseline of comparison. “If runners don’t meet the standards,” Hutchinson said, “they’re done.”

In addition to the aid stations, the Vermont 100 relies on over 200 volunteers— people at aid stations, bike patrollers on the course, ham radio operators, medical personnel, emergency medical technicians, and ambulance drivers. It is the rare year when somebody doesn’t get transported to a local hospital via ambulance, usually for intravenous fluid replacement. “Our first concern,” said Hutchinson, “is that runners can come here and be as safe as they can be doing something like this. There is a risk involved, but it’s a risk that participants are not only willing to take, they’re anxious to take.”

Many of the major ultra events nationwide are fund-raisers for worthy causes. Laura Farrell founded the Vermont 100 in 1988 to raise funds for another organization she founded—Vermont Adaptive Ski and Sports, an organization that provides athletic opportunities for people with disabilities. One of the nation’s top female ultra runners, and the founder of VASS, Farrell felt that the two were a great fit. “I thought that a 100-miler in Vermont would be a great fund-raiser for the adaptive program,” she said. “They both involve individuals enjoying and/or challenging themselves through sports.”

Adventure, challenge, being outdoors for hours at a time motivate ultrarunners, who fashion their lives around maintaining their physical and emotional fitness. Years of running thousands of miles has taken a toll on Farrell’s knees, and these days she balances her running with biking and plenty of rest. “The most important thing,” she said, “and the reason behind running like I have—and behind starting the Vermont 100—is just my love for sports and just wanting anybody and everybody to be able to enjoy and to challenge themselves through sports.”

Meanwhile, Phillips, Helling and the other 300 participants in this year’s race will be training by regularly running farther than most people run all year. These ultrarunners will find plenty of challenges—personal, weather-wise, and terrain-wise—in the hills of West Windsor. But that’s the way they like it. “I love running ultras,” said Phillips, “because they challenge me physically and emotionally. I also love being deep in the woods—I feel self-sufficient and truly alive. It also reminds me to play and not to take my work life too seriously.”

Mark Aiken is a freelance writer from Richmond.