The Unsexy Power of Patience: How Sally McRae Conquered the Moab 240
In 2023, ultra-runner Sally McRae set out to face a distance that was completely mysterious to her: the 200-mile race. It wasn't just about testing her limits; it was about stepping into the unknown to see how her mind and body would react when pushed past the point of total exhaustion. She decided to tackle the ultimate challenge in ultra-running—the Grand Slam of 200s: Cocodona, Tahoe, Bigfoot, and finally, the culmination of it all, the infamous Moab 240.
Coming into Moab, Sally’s body was already carrying the crushing weight of the cumulative miles from the previous three races. Tahoe and Bigfoot had taken place just 17 days apart, meaning she had raced 400 brutal miles a mere six weeks before toeing the line at Moab. Her physical preparation was far from ideal, and her body was sending constant distress signals. It would have been easy to succumb to anxiety, but Sally leaned into a simple truth: our minds are incredibly powerful, and winning requires an unshakeable strategy. She chose two unsexy words to guide her through the desert: patience and wisdom.
Strategy Over Hype: Navigating the Darkest Miles
For the Moab 240, Sally chose four specific Pacers to help her execute her plan—the most she had ever used in a race. She knew she didn’t need a "hype person" to get her fired up at the start. Instead, she needed peace, balance, and centered focus to prevent her from burning out too early. Her first Pacer, Sarah, provided exactly that grounding presence, helping her handle the massive climbs early on. Sally’s strategy was clear: embrace being passed by other runners, stay patient, and save precious energy for the final stages.
However, ultra-marathons have a way of shattering even the best-laid plans. At the Island in the Sky aid station, Sally saw the devastating state of her feet. Just 50 meters out of the station, the realization of the excruciating pain that would accompany every single step ahead broke her down. She stopped, cried, and vented her frustration. Sarah simply slipped an arm around her, offering quiet reassurance. They shared the moment, stopped talking about the pain, and kept moving forward.
As the heat of the day rolled up, the physical toll began compounding. Sally was dealing with severe foot blisters and a sour stomach that made holding down food nearly impossible. Approaching Shea Mountain in second place, freezing in the high altitude with a dimming headlamp, she made a tactical decision. Instead of letting the medics or competing crews see her vulnerability, she bypassed the public aid station entirely. She grabbed her crew member, Eddie, and retreated to the privacy of a car. In that small, quiet space, she aggressively taped her feet using a safety pin to drain the blisters, forced herself to eat, and took a crucial 15-minute power nap. She refused to let her emotions rule her.
From that point on, the race transformed into a relentless push with minimal sleep. Her next Pacer, Summer, guided her through the freezing, windy night sections where snow dusted the ground. The mission was pure efficiency—keep the body temperature up, stay awake through conversation, and survive until it was time to truly race.
The Chase for First and the Final Battle of Will
The real race began at Mile 160 when Sally picked up her third Pacer, Billy. At this point, the leading woman was over an hour ahead of her. This was the exact moment Sally had patiently saved her energy for. Rejuvenated by the sun and finally able to eat a bit of food, Sally and Billy began running a relentless 10:30 pace. By the time they hit the next crewed aid station, the gap was gone. Sally moved into first place. As she took the lead, she made a promise to herself: I will not relinquish this spot. With 70 miles left of Moab, she picked up her final Pacer, Joe, whose fierce competitive spirit kept the pace high as they climbed back into the freezing altitude.
Just a few miles before the final crude aid station, Sally hit a dangerous wall—she completely lost control of her breathing, struggling to inhale or exhale. Joe forced her to calm down, focus on her breath, and slow her pace to protect her five-mile lead. Back in the car with Eddie, she faced a grim reality: she couldn't control her breathing, new blisters were forming underneath old calluses, and the water she drank was making her vomit. With 30 miles to go and her podium spot at risk, she asked herself the ultimate question: How much more can I actually take? She thought about the story she wanted to tell the next day and refused to let fleeting discomfort dictate her legacy.
"Winning sometimes means putting yourself in a state of temporary discomfort. These are temporary feelings, and feelings don't get to dictate what I do." – Sally McRae
Calling upon past pain, heartbreaks, and failures as fuel, she relied on pure will and mental fortitude for the final 25 miles. She crossed the finish line entirely spent, tattered, and broken—exactly the way she always imagined finishing the greatest challenge of her life. She proved that sometimes we win not because we are the fastest athletes, but because we are completely at peace with being uncomfortable.
