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Five common words, arranged in an order I’ve never heard them said before. I nod, a silent “yes, exactly.” And then I give up: “I’m sorry, what?”
“It never always gets worse” is part of Travis Macy’s answer to my perfectly reasonable question: “How and why would a person run one hundred miles, all in a row?” Hundred-mile races are but one of the many superhuman things he and his father, the equally legendary endurance athlete Mark Macy, 68, have both done multiple times over multiple decades. How—why—does a person take on a race where a 20-hour finish is an aspirational result? I have run marathons before, I have felt the pain and the elation and the thing where a stranger hands you an orange slice and you put it in your mouth. I have pushed myself past my limits. At least I thought I had. But I have never crossed a marathon finish line and thought to myself, Let’s do this roughly three more times right now. How do you mentally get yourself to 30 miles, to 50, to 100? How do you keep going, long after any sensible person would tell you to stop?
“You have to remember that it might actually get better,” Travis, 39, explains. “You tend to think, I feel this bad after 20, I’m going to feel twice as bad after 40, but how do you know? Maybe you won’t.” It is a testament to his general charisma level that I find myself believing him. “If you keep eating and drinking, if you surround yourself with positive energy, you might hit a point where you feel better.” Travis smiles. “Things turn around, that’s what happens in any long-distance event.”
I’m with the Macys, Travis and Mark and their wives Amy and Pam, on a family hike. I’m with them because I want to talk about how a person becomes an ultra-racer, but I’m also here because I want to know how this family is weathering the latest complication in their collective long-distance event: In 2018, Mark Macy was diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer’s disease, an incurable and terminal illness.
“You have ups and downs out there,“ Travis says, “but the lows don’t always just get lower. You can still find some good.”
Mark nods at his son, and then at me. “It’s not that hard,” Mark says. And we keep moving.  Five common words, arranged in an order I’ve never heard them said before. I nod, a silent “yes, exactly.” And then I give up: “I’m sorry, what?”
“It never always gets worse” is part of Travis Macy’s answer to my perfectly reasonable question: “How and why would a person run one hundred miles, all in a row?” Hundred-mile races are but one of the many superhuman things he and his father, the equally legendary endurance athlete Mark Macy, 68, have both done multiple times over multiple decades. How—why—does a person take on a race where a 20-hour finish is an aspirational result? I have run marathons before, I have felt the pain and the elation and the thing where a stranger hands you an orange slice and you put it in your mouth. I have pushed myself past my limits. At least I thought I had. But I have never crossed a marathon finish line and thought to myself, Let’s do this roughly three more times right now. How do you mentally get yourself to 30 miles, to 50, to 100? How do you keep going, long after any sensible person would tell you to stop?
“You have to remember that it might actually get better,” Travis, 39, explains. “You tend to think, I feel this bad after 20, I’m going to feel twice as bad after 40, but how do you know? Maybe you won’t.” It is a testament to his general charisma level that I find myself believing him. “If you keep eating and drinking, if you surround yourself with positive energy, you might hit a point where you feel better.” Travis smiles. “Things turn around, that’s what happens in any long-distance event.”
I’m with the Macys, Travis and Mark and their wives Amy and Pam, on a family hike. I’m with them because I want to talk about how a person becomes an ultra-racer, but I’m also here because I want to know how this family is weathering the latest complication in their collective long-distance event: In 2018, Mark Macy was diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer’s disease, an incurable and terminal illness.
“You have ups and downs out there,“ Travis says, “but the lows don’t always just get lower. You can still find some good.”
Mark nods at his son, and then at me. “It’s not that hard,” Mark says. And we keep moving. |
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| Need a last-minute holiday gift for the reading runner in your life? Look no further than these staff picks. |
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| Maegan Krifchin ran three marathons in one month—the last one in a personal-best 2:29:21. Take her advice on whether you can recycle fitness into another strong performance. |
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| “Each and every step that I’ve taken is a celebration, and I celebrate who I’m becoming.” |
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| 21-year-old Tate Dobson covered 36 miles in just under six hours. Then, he did it again. |
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| Now she’s on a mission to spread awareness about early breast cancer detection. |
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| Whether this is your first or 10th time participating in the #RWRunStreak, this advice on handling each mile will carry you through. |
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