Crazy about running

I bumped into a friend whom I hadn’t seen in a while and we began sharing recent races and running adventures. I told her about some of the big stage races and other ultras that I’d run. She told me that when she first met me she thought that I was a normal guy who loved to run, but as I’ve started running more ultras and pushing the limits, she said now she just thinks I’m crazy. Nobody likes being called crazy, but it did make me think. In the last year I’ve sold my house, quit my job, and embarked on a world tour racing tough ultra endurance sports across the globe. We had a laugh at this but it gave me a moment’s pause to consider how others view me, and my passion for running long distances. To me, my life is normal, and I love it. Obviously, many consider what I do for fun “abnormal” and “unhealthy”. To be honest, I used to as well. As a fledgling runner, I couldn’t fathom running more than a half-marathon. Ultras have become an addiction for me though, providing something greater than a runner’s high. Ultras are proving addictive for others as well, having enraptured many unsuspecting runners who thought that they would only dabble in ultras. The proof is in the numbers.

Let’s face it, ultra running is the flavour of the month: there are more competitors, more races, and more media. Many athletes with a marathon experience view the 50 km or 50 mile distance as the next worthy challenge. While the weekend warriors fuel ballooning race numbers, there is a growing number of top-sport athletes competing globally in ultras, forgoing fame and fortune for passion and notoriety. What I find astonishing, is that there is little money in it for elite ultra runners, yet a number of well-known racers have recently walked away from their careers to pursue running ultras full time. What drives someone to walk from a lucrative job to compete in races with skimpy prize money, and a sport with meager sponsorship? It is the ultra drug. It’s not adrenaline, nor is it the endorphin-fueled runners high that accompany a 10 km, or a ½ marathon – it’s not chemical, it’s mental.

When I run, I experience raw, unfiltered emotions. I can feel great, or I can feel terrible – often many times in the same race. Whereas emotional swings in a marathons or shorter races pass relatively quickly, the highs and lows last much longer in ultras. These enduring moments however, give me a greater appreciation for life, for my health, and simply running free. The lows can be brutal. Mine are often laced with self-doubt, defeatism, and self-pity, but conquering the negativity is really what keeps me coming back. Don’t get me wrong – I love it when a race goes well, and I’m flying high the whole time, but I don’t appreciate it the same way because the internal challenge isn’t as great. My reward comes from overcoming obstacles. So yes, maybe that makes me a bit crazy, that I find enjoyment through pushing myself to my breaking point and then struggling to rise above it, but in our sugar coated lives, I think we need to test ourselves regularly to remind us what it is to be human, and alive. I’ve chosen to do this outside and on trails, not at a desk anymore. Cheers to the crazy ones.