A Trail Runner’s Guide to Emotional Breakdowns (And Why It’s Normal)

Welcome to the Pain Cave (We Have Snacks)

Trail running is a beautiful, soul-filling, life-affirming experience—until it isn’t. Until your legs feel like cement blocks, your stomach stages a full-blown rebellion, and your brain decides, yes, this is the moment to question every decision you’ve ever made in life.

If you’ve never found yourself sitting on a rock mid-run, eating an emergency gel with the same sad determination as a raccoon rifling through a gas station dumpster, are you even a trail runner? The truth is, at some point in every long run or ultra, you will break down. And that’s okay.

So let’s talk about why these inevitable emotional meltdowns happen, why they’re completely normal, and how you can learn to embrace the absurdity of it all.

1. The Five Stages of Trail Running Grief

Ultra-runners don’t need therapy. We have 100+ miles to work through all of our issues in real time. In fact, every long run is just an accelerated version of the classic five stages of grief. Let’s break it down:

• Denial: “I feel great! Maybe I’ll actually PR today.” (You will not.)

• Anger: “Why did I sign up for this? Who invented running? Why is this climb so damn long?”

• Bargaining: “If I make it to the next aid station, I swear I will never eat gas station sushi again.”

• Depression: “I live here now. This is my life. I will never feel joy again.”

• Acceptance: “Screw it, let’s just keep moving and see what happens.”

This cycle will repeat itself multiple times in a single race, sometimes within the span of a single mile.

2. The Aid Station: Where Dignity Goes to Die

There is no place on Earth where the human condition is laid more bare than at a late-race aid station. You will witness grown adults slumped in chairs, staring blankly into the void while clutching cups of lukewarm broth like it’s the elixir of life. You will see people making strange, desperate food choices—like chasing a handful of salted potatoes with a Dixie cup of flat Coke—because electrolytes.

And let’s talk about the volunteers. Trail race aid station volunteers are actual saints, but they will lie to your face with alarming confidence:

• “You look great!” (You do not.)

• “It’s mostly downhill from here!” (It never is.)

• “Just one more mile to the aid station!” (Multiply whatever distance they give you by at least two.)

You will believe them, because hope is all you have left.

3. Hallucinations, Talking to Rocks, and Other Totally Normal Things

Once you’ve been moving long enough, the world starts to get a little… weird.

Maybe you’ve been awake for 30 hours. Maybe your body is consuming muscle tissue like a bear preparing for hibernation. Whatever the reason, reality starts bending in ways it shouldn’t.

Common ultra-running hallucinations include:

• Seeing logs as animals. (That bear? It’s actually a tree stump.)

• Hearing voices in the wind. (Just the echoes of your bad life choices.)

• Talking to inanimate objects. (You will apologize to a rock for kicking it.)

These things aren’t just normal; they’re almost a rite of passage. If you haven’t had a full conversation with an inanimate object on the trail, you simply haven’t gone far enough yet.

4. When You Want to Quit, But Also… Snacks?

Every ultra-runner has a moment (or 17) where they want to quit. And yet somehow, despite the agony, we often decide to keep moving forward. Why?

Because at the lowest moment of your race, when everything hurts and you’re considering dropping, you’ll remember one simple truth: If I quit now, I won’t fully appreciate the finish line burrito bar.

Nothing has ever kept a runner going quite like the promise of pizza, soup, or whatever questionable food the race director has deemed appropriate. Have you ever eaten a cold pancake with your bare hands at mile 85 after dunking it in lukewarm water with way too much orange flavored Tailwind mixed in? Then you know true desperation.

5. The Finish Line is a Lie

Everyone assumes that crossing the finish line will be some kind of euphoric, life-changing moment. And sometimes, it is. But more often than not, it looks more like this:

• You stumble across the line.

• You immediately sit down and refuse to move.

• Someone hands you a cold drink, which you just stare at blankly because your stomach has ceased functioning.

• You spend the next 48 hours hobbling around like you were hit by a truck.

But despite the pain, despite the suffering, despite the fact that you swore never again—give it a few days, and you’ll start looking up your next race.

A Final Call to Action

So, should you sign up for a trail ultra? Absolutely. Should you prepare for the fact that you will have an existential crisis in the middle of it? Also yes.

Because here’s the thing—suffering is funny. At least, it is once you’ve had a nap and some real food. And the best part? You’re not alone in it. Every runner out there has been through the same pain, had the same meltdowns, and come out the other side with an even weirder sense of humor.

So go forth, embrace the chaos, and remember: when all else fails, just keep moving. And eat more snacks. Always eat more snacks. Especially Hi-Chews and gummy bears.

See you on the trails.