I’ve done more marathons than I’ve done half-marathons. I’ve done more ultramarthons than I’ve done marathons. (All of the above ignores the Walt Disney Goofy which I am not sure whether it should be classified as a half, a full or an ultra.) I appear to like longer distances to shorter.
My theory for that is that there is less pressure with an ultra. With the shorter (using the word liberally) races, I know I am going to finish. I am competing to have a fast time. I have to figure out what speed I can do and how long I can keep it up for. I have to straddle the line between aerobic and anaerobic.
With an ultra, I’m just worried about finishing. That is the accomplishment. I’m solidly in aerobic exercise the entire time. Walking hills is not frowned upon, and is even encouraged. I can stop and rest without guilt or worrying about who is passing me. As long as I finish, I have plenty of time to catch up with them. And if I don’t, no biggie. My only goal is the getting across the finish line.
I could also say that I am much more susceptible to peer-pressure when I’m running. I usually don’t want to do these stupid-distance races, but my running friends can easily convince me to do one while I’m flush with endorphins. My non-running friends cannot convince me to not do them, because I usually see them in a laid-back environment with very little endorphins.
That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.