“Why am I doing this? This is so stupid!” I don’t think there’s been a single ultra I’ve run where that thought didn’t cross my mind or come out of my mouth at some point. And yet, for 14 straight years, all I’ve continued to do is sign up for one after another. All with a smile on my face. As I write this, I’m still hobbled from back-to-back weekends of 100-milers almost a month ago, and staring down a couple more in the next two months. I have no idea how I’ll be ready for them and can’t help but wonder: what are these complex experiences with ultrarunning really telling me about life?
We like to make fun hard
For every sleep-deprived weekend I’ve spent tirelessly moving forward on the trail, track or road for a buckle I’ll probably wear once or twice, I’ve had more weekends where I was sitting at home following a friend’s race and wishing I was running it. There is a fear of missing out (FOMO), but missing out on what? The FOMO on doing something that’ll make you wish you were sleeping in a comfortable bed instead of trying to figure out how you’ll make it to morning with a dead headlamp and numb fingers as it rains on you at 2 a.m. in the middle of nowhere? Maybe it’s because humans haven’t had a chance to participate in activities (like ultrarunning) that are hard and don’t come from survival, but it’s become clear that humans truly don’t crave comfort and convenience. We crave the feeling of comfort only after doing something hard (even if it wasn’t required). There’s really no other way to explain ultrarunning. Therefore, I would like to take this moment to re-define the word “fun” from “amusing, entertaining or enjoyable” to “amusing, entertaining or despairing.”
Shortcuts never work
Ultrarunning has taught me there are really no shortcuts to becoming good at anything, and mastering anything is mostly a function of time and dedication. We’ve all shown up to a race undertrained thinking we can pull off magic, but magic never comes. While experience goes a long way, and overtraining can happen, it’s generally those that put in the most time that do the best. While other parts of life don’t provide as obvious and linear results as running tends to, the same is always true. If you just put in the time and remain committed, you can master just about anything, whether it’s shooting a basketball, playing a musical instrument or learning a new language.
Adversity is a part of everything
Any “training plan” I put together for myself never seems to come true, no matter how hard I try to stick to it. Like, where I am now, I always have little injuries that pop up and if you told me when I started a training block that “x, y and z” would happen, I’d probably tell you that I’ll never make it to the start line. Nothing ever goes as planned, and I’ve found if I can even do 80% of what I planned to do, I’m usually sitting in a pretty good place. And if I have a bad run, I’m never going to become discouraged but instead, embrace the fact I got through it. The same is true with everyday life—I always have 10 things I want to accomplish in a day, but I’m usually lucky if I can do five or six. And if I do those five or six things, it will be a pretty good day. Consistency and persistence are the common denominators to long-term success.
The world is a small place
Have you ever zoomed way out on Strava and looked at your heat map? It’s incredible the places ultrarunning will take you, and the number of places you connect with on foot. Aside from that, the sport has taught me how small the world is on a human level. I can travel to every corner of the US to run a race, and I still see a dozen people I know at the start line or have seen at another race. I get that most people at the grocery store would tell you they have no interest in running an ultramarathon, but when I see familiar faces at races, it reminds me that doing anything in life as bold as ultrarunning is rare. Following through on bold ideas is a gift. Not even finishing, but just showing up for an ultramarathon is something to be applauded (as long as you know what you’re getting into). I’ve never thought of myself as a particularly gifted runner, but more as someone who enjoys seeing how far I can go. It’s a reminder that you should never count yourself out before pursuing anything. Not everything is a competition, but it’s a reminder to me that we’re all more capable of tackling bold ideas than we probably give ourselves credit for.