Why run ultras?
Most ultra-runners are also philosophers, and one of the fundamental questions of our sport is…
Why?
I have no definitive answer, but I did start a list a while back [originally published here: My running whys (Pandemic Diary - day 249)]. It’s a draft, and incomplete, but for me it feels like a good and honest start.
1. Good Animal
First be a good animal. There are other interpretations of Emerson’s directive, but I like mine the best…
To be a good human, you must first be a good animal. You must experience and exercise your animal potential, and you must incorporate that into your human existence. And our animal potential, our genetic and spiritual heritage, is first and foremost that of the persistence predator: long distance pursuit, patience through the long-distance grind, regardless of terrain or weather, the optimism that you can outlast your prey, and the possibility that at the end of the pursuit, if you are steadfast, you will feast, and you and your offspring will survive.
(This idea of being a good animal is the heart of my last post: Something Fierce.)
2. Second Sunrise
I want to know who I am at second sunrise.
The symbolism of this arrival — the fact that you’ve been in constant motion through an entire day, an entire night, and into the next day — is powerful, and the results of that journey, the response you get when you say “good morning” to yourself can tell you a lot about that self. [See my post The “second sunrise” why.]
3. Second Sunrise (part two)
Second Sunrise is a good reason, but it only works for the first couple ultras. By now, I’ve been to many second sunrises (and a third sunrise) — I already know who I am there. Maybe I need reassurance that I’m still that person, but I think it’s more likely that I like that person and I want to spend more time with him, get to know him better.
4. Smiling Through
How do I react to a 3-in-the-morning thunderstorm? Do I smile and go out to dance with it — glad for the challenge, or do I break?
This is a variation on the second-sunrise reason, but it’s potentially more intense, and therefore potentially more enlightening. I wrote more about this in Smiling Through at Mile 80 (Eastern States):
The crux of the whole thing is there in that moment, the torrential rain at 3am moment. How do you react, how do you handle yourself, what kind of runner — what kind of human — are you? As I watched, I knew I needed to answer that for myself.
5. Is that all?
Is that all you’ve got? That’s me addressing the mountain, the course, the challenge I’ve just completed.
It’s mainly about finding limits, learning where your personal edges are. It has shades of defiance, like “Shoot me again, I ain’t dead yet,” but there’s also a cautionary side of “Pride goeth before destruction, and an haughty spirit before a fall.” It’s hard to find the edge without the risk of falling past it.
6. Afterglow
Do you see it? Can you feel it? It’s the best high-on-life you can get, and the only path I’ve found to it is through the adversity of the extended physical and mental effort that gets you through a hundred miles. It comes from going long.
So that’s my list so far. It doesn’t account for everything, and it’s subject to change, but it accounts for a lot. And it was a good exercise, a valuable and important thing to think about.
What are you passionate about? (I hope there’s something, and I hope you think about why.)