Nibbled by Ducks

...but then I hit the Hardrock lottery

Dec 13, 2024

Article voiceover

1×

0:00

-3:11

“Seems to me that I have in the past few years been so nibbled and pushed by light minds and troubled by tiny things that I have been constantly off balance. Large things I can stand up to. I think most people can — I believe that men are destroyed by little things—so little that they can’t be got at or even identified—the nibbling of ducks.

A large demand may stimulate—a thousand small ones only confuse and erode.”

John Steinbeck (in a 1952 letter to a friend, from “Steinbeck: A Life in Letters”)

I’m no Steinbeck, but his letters resonate with me. Especially, at the moment, this one. The universe served it up for me on Sunday morning (via my Readwise highlights feed), as if on cue.

Because like Steinbeck, I’ve felt those thousand nibbles. Incomplete projects, distractions masquerading as entertainment, an endless flow of low-level obligations — they’ve left me off balance, drifting.

I have ideas (a lifetime supply) but I capture them and stop. I write but don’t publish. I run, but without enthusiasm, and just enough to keep my streaks. I read, but it’s short and shallow, articles instead of books. It’s been a months long low-grade malaise, with no change in sight.

But… “a large demand may stimulate” and I was just given one of those.

On Saturday, after 9 years of wanting and working and waiting, it finally happened: my name was drawn in the Hardrock Hundred lottery. I wasn’t even watching at the time (my odds were only about 15%, and I guess I was bracing for yet another rejection), so when messages from friends started coming, I was skeptical, held my breath in disbelief until I confirmed it. But it was true — in July, I have a spot in the toughest race of my life.

In the hours after the draw, I was giddy, an overexcited child on Christmas morning with the gift of their dreams. I wanted to tell everyone (but introvert me also wanted to sneak away and hide). Hedonic me wanted to celebrate with an evening of beer and food. Military me wanted to make lists, start phasing the operation. We were all a bit overwhelmed.

So I did what I always do — I went for a run, and that brought me back to ground level, snow-and-dirt level. Out there on trail in the dark (it’s rifle deer season here) the grandiosity of it faded into the rough-but-lovely reality of all the miles of grinding between here and there.

Scotia Barrens | December 7, 2024 | *photo: Jeff Calvert*

And of course, that’s exactly what I need, exactly what’s been missing lately — a large thing to stand up to, a task with enough difficulty to demand my full effort and attention.

It’s already working.

My runs this week feel purposeful — I’m not just going through the motions anymore. I’ve started reading a promising new book and I’m publishing here for the first time since August. Hardrock is already doing its work on me, and this is only the beginning. Let’s see where the next 30 weeks worth of miles take us.