They talk about it like a myth. The pain cave. A dark place where time slows, the body screams at you, and your mind starts whispering and telling you to stop. But if you’ve ever run far enough, you will know it’s real. And strangely, it’s where the magic happens.

What Is the Pain Cave, Really?

The pain cave isn’t just about pain. It’s about truth. It’s that point in every ultra when your legs feel hollow, your stomach turns, and your thoughts get small. The crowds and the support are gone. The headlamp glare catches mist in the air. You realise it’s just you and how badly you want this. Some call it suffering. For me, it’s part of the process, it’s a conversation with myself.

Every time I hit that point in a race, whether it was Chester 100, UTS100K, or Race Across Scotland, it’s like meeting a version of myself I only see out there on the trails. The one who doesn’t care about splits, followers, or finish times. The one who’s just trying to keep moving forward by any means necessary.

The Moments That Broke Me and Built Me

I still remember the middle of Race Across Scotland, somewhere around the 30-hour mark, head down in fields of bogs that seemed endless. Every step sank. Every step hurt. My quads were gone, my stomach was wrecked, and I started questioning everything. “Why am I doing this?”, “what have I got to prove”, “I could just stop and go home”.

The pain cave opened then, that dark mental tunnel where quitting feels logical, almost sensible. But the trick isn’t to escape it. It’s to stay there longer, looking out of it.

Because after the panic and pain comes something quieter. Acceptance. You stop fighting, and you start flowing. You learn to continue in discomfort without giving it all your power.

That’s what I felt again in Snowdonia, halfway up the brutal climb of Yr Wyddfa itself, via the Watkins path in the dusk. I remember thinking, this is the price of the view of the sun setting on the horizon. And when you come out the other side, when you summit, the pain fades, and you’re still moving, it’s like finding a piece of yourself that you didn’t know existed.

How I Embrace the Suffering and Stay in the Pain Cave

Name It. Don’t Fear It – The pain cave isn’t an ambush. It’s a checkpoint. When you feel it coming, say it: “Here it is.” Labelling it gives you the control, you’re acknowledging it, not surrendering to it. It sounds crazy, but I actually speak out loud to it.

Shrink the World – In the pain cave, big goals will crush you. Don’t think about the finish. Think about the next step, the next way marker, the next corner. I’ve survived some of my darkest miles by only looking ten feet ahead. Even counting my steps.

Anchor to Purpose – Pain asks, why are you doing this? Have an answer ready. For me, it’s always about testing limits, proving that comfort isn’t the goal, but growth is. I enjoy looking for the perceived impossible.

Control the Breath, Control the Mind – Slow breathing sends a signal, I’m not panicking. When fatigue hits the hardest, I count my breaths, four in, four out. It grounds me, even when everything else hurts.

Remember, It’s Temporary – Every pain cave has an exit. You just don’t know when it’s coming. Keep moving, embrace it and you’ll find the light again. The next high will be your reward.

Why We Go Back

People always ask, “Why put yourself through it?” The truth? Because the pain cave strips everything away, ego, fear, doubt, until you meet the real you underneath.

That’s why I keep coming back. Not for the finish times, or the splits, or the race photos.

But for those raw, unforgettable moments when the only thing left is you versus yourself. And sometimes, that’s exactly what we need to feel alive.

Final Thought

As an ultra-runner, the pain cave isn’t a place to avoid, it’s a place you need to visit. Every time you enter it, you come out changed. Stronger. Calmer. Wiser. So next time the trail gets dark, the legs go heavy, and the doubts start shouting at you… just smile. You’ve found the pain cave. Now embrace it and see just how long you can stay there.