4am, the alarm sounds. The room is dark. Quietly I roll out of bed. My wife and kids are still asleep in the hotel room beds. Why am I doing this? I grab a cup of tea, a banana, and a bowl of oatmeal. Time to get dressed. I put on shorts, shirt, pants, jacket, hat, gloves…. it’s May, but it’s cold this morning. Why am I doing this? I wake the kids and get them dressed. We pack the car and it’s time to go. As we drive, I feel that familiar knot in my stomach. I feel sick, but it’s just nerves. “Nerves for what” I wonder. Why am I doing this? Time to line up, heart pounding, surrounded by other runners. In my head I count down, 5…4…3…2…1….GO! So started the morning on Bear Mountain as I began a day of running over 30 miles up and down the mountain trails of the lower Hudson valley.
Why am I doing this? It was a common refrain of the morning, and of the first few miles. “I could be home” I thought, “I could still be sleeping”! I could be spending my day playing with my kids, or just relaxing in the back yard. But instead here I am, running for the next 6 hours, through streams, over rocks, and around giant puddles of mud. It was a whole new challenge for me. A 50k run over some really unforgiving terrain. So mile after mile, hill after hill, and stubbed toe after stubbed toe I tried to answer this one simple question, “Why am I doing this?”
It was somewhere around mile 7 or 8 when I finally started to get in the groove (that must sound ridiculous to non runners), that an answer finally started to take shape. At first, it was just a glimmer of a thought, just a vague feeling. But as I continued to run, as I continued my active meditation, this feeling solidified to the point that it became an actual thought, my mantra for the rest of the day, a mantra that would carry me through the hardest miles and the steepest hills. It was a mantra that answered the question of “Why am I doing this” and motivated me to take step after step after step. “I train to prepare for racing, I race to prepare for life”. Over and over in my head, “I train to prepare for racing, I race to prepare for life”. That was my mantra for the day.
I was fortunate that from a young age I was exposed to all the positive effects of athletics. As a child I learned lessons of hard work, time management, and goal setting. I learned that with focus and determination sometimes I could even win! But more importantly, I learned that winning is not the most important thing. The lessons you learn, the people you meet, the experiences you have, are far more important. And so I learned to be graceful in defeat. I learned the value of athletics is not in the result, but in the journey.
So as I ran for those 6 hours, I thought about the things that I had learned while training for this race and what I would be able to take forward and apply to my life. On the subject of foot placement and running on rocky terrain, I remembered reading advice to this affect: “if you are trying to choose between one step or two, choose three”. This turned out to be great advice during the race. When ruining, longer strides always take more energy than shorter strides. But on a rocky, uphill trail, this fact is made all that much more apparent. If I didn’t concentrate on taking lots of small steps, I found myself jumping from rock to rock, wasting energy, and risking a turned ankle with every step. How often in life do I risk making the same mistake, biting off more than I can chew or trying to do too much at one time? A better strategy is to break things into smaller pieces, to break a big problem into a series of small and more manage problems.
So, as I ran, focused on taking short and deliberate steps, another bit of advice kept popping back into my head – “nobody wins the race on the uphill’s”. As I watched the race unfold, I was amazed at how true this was. From the very start of the race, it was obvious that there were two types of runners; those pushing up the hills, and those holding back. To my surprise, some of the ones holding back were even walking! But sure enough, 20 miles later, it was easy to see which strategy paid off. Those that had the patience and composure to maintain proper pacing were the ones that were not only still running but even enjoying themselves at the end of the race. Those who were charging up the first few climbs were left to painfully walking the last few miles. Life is long, and is filled with both ups and downs. But with proper pacing, you can manage the uphills and allow yourself to be in a position to enjoy the downhill’s when they inevitably return, because after every climb, there is always a downhill on the other side.
A final lesson learned from this experience is this – “ask questions”. It’s so simple, but something I often overlook in my life. Whatever situation you find yourself in, it is unlikely that you are the first person that has ever experienced it. So why do it alone? Ask questions, and learn from others experiences. There is no reason to make the same mistakes that others have already made and learned from. I used this advise throughout my race. I would actively seek out people that had run this race before, and learned tricks and tips from them as I went. Whether it’s pride or fear of embarrassment, too often in my real life I do not follow this advice.
I wont say that running 31 miles was easy, it wasn’t. Running each of the last few miles got harder and harder. My feet ached, my muscles were screaming with pain. Each step, a little voice in the back of my head told me to stop. But I have heard this voice before. I’ve heard this voice in every race I’ve ever run, from the 5ks to the marathons. So I knew that I just needed to ignore it, i just needed to focus on my mantra for the day, ” I train to prepare for racing, I race to prepare for life ” – ” I train to prepare for racing, I race to prepare for life “. And so it was as I crossed the finish line beaten down, but stronger for the experience. Because of this race, maybe, just maybe, I will be a little more prepared for the real challenges in my life when they inevitably come about. And now I know, that’s why I do this.
Leave a Reply