Distance Invites Demons

Distance running is a journey that invites, if not demands, considerable self-reflection. I suspect it is why many of us gratefully push past hour two of a run on a regular basis - as the miles pile on, you soon exhaust the relentless hamster wheel of work/kid/life self-smalltalk that consumes our brains day-to-day, freeing your mind to pursue more meaningful questions unshackled. The longer the run, and the farther into nature you explore, the deeper you permit yourself to dig into the soul and find what awaits. If the journey is long enough, even the most dormant of demons will pop up and join you for a few miles. Distance will always invite demons with arms wide open.

Distance can wear many faces too, I have recently learned. A few months ago, I was given a career opportunity one sees rarely in a lifetime – come join a growing company of amazing mobile rock stars that find themselves in the eye of the greatest technology shift the world has ever seen. Just one catch, the commute is a tad long…about 2,245 miles to be exact. To do the job right, while keeping the family as happy as possible, meant working in Pittsburgh, PA, and living in Woodside, CA. Christi, my wife and career consigliore of 20+ years, sized it up similarly, and with the GAME ON nod of her head, distance invited itself into our lives in a whole new dimension.

In retrospect, it was a bit foolish of me to think that long runs might somehow prepare me for the solitude that creeps up when you work away from home. When you run, you invite solitude into your life, and in that sense control it. When you spend 4-5 nights a week in a hotel room away from your family, your bed, and the home trails that keep you grounded, solitude soon controls you.

Not at first, of course. In the first few nights, you secretly revel in your newfound freedom. No snoring pugs hogging the covers, no screaming kids needing baths mid-meltdown, not having to ask permission for a quick run….heck, you don’t even have to pick up the towels. For the first week or two, you feel like pinching yourself every morning. And THEN you order room service! Word.

But by week three, you begin to miss those familiar burdens. The snoring dog who warms your legs, assuring you with the harmonious purr of a dozen face folds that you are at home with your pack. The kids that always need you do actually need you, and their absence forces the realization of how fulfilling that truly is. The hotel room that snaps back to its sterile and apathetic state of cleanliness every day at 10am begins to feel like a bad looping video or a glitch in the Matrix, adding a touch of anxiety to the quiet. With all the time on your hands, the solitude consumes you.

The trails, however, are always good for reprieve and it didn’t take long for me to find the gold and orange hills of Schenley Park, Frick Park, and the river trails just outside of my regular hotel. The autumn colors of Pittsburgh are breathtaking, and I soon found a morning ritual of getting lost in the hallows as the morning sun chased away the frost and filled the campuses with young and vibrant smiles. For a few hours a day, it was a much-needed sanctuary.

(Frick Park, Pittsburgh, PA)

But after a month away from home, separateness settled in like some new form of gravity. Phone calls from the family came less often, their lives naturally adapting without my presence. FaceTime video calls lost their novelty, and contact with my family became little more than Instagram photos and one sentence updates at a regularity I share with Facebook friends I’ve never met. I even felt lonely at home, out of touch with their day-to-day lives, little more than a ghost in their busy weekend rituals. FUCK. NOT HOW I SAW THIS PLAYING OUT.

Then in a single moment of clarity, all that anxiety disappeared. After a Saturday morning 10-miler in the hills of Woodside, I returned home to see Christi and the girls through the front window laughing, having breakfast, and playing with the dogs. They were happy. Like, crazy happy. In fact, I was the only one choosing to be anything less than gleeful. ME. BY CHOICE.

A beat, a pause, a breath…aahhh. A “long run revelation” for sure. I am out of The Pit.

(My girls)

Then Quinn, our almost-3-year-old caught sight of me, and pressed her face to the glass with a smile full of drool, bouncing enough to attract 7-year-old Sophie and the dogs who soon steamed the windows with their anticipation. I pressed my face right back, humbled by every precious second I have to share with them. I am happy too.

Pittsburgh greets me with a smile now too these days. My coworkers have become friends, a little retail therapy got me a fresh and Pittsburgh-ready wardrobe (wakka-ow!) to explore the neighborhoods, and I no longer need a map to find my favorite trails even in the dark. Family vacations are revered with renewed anticipation, and I find myself delighted with the warmth of California winter weather that weeks ago felt like it chilled to the bone. My runs have again become a place to explore, not escape. Life, once more, seems full of potential and poetry as far as I can dream.

(New city duds - it's all about layers!)

I may have run with my demons for a stretch, but I’ve found a new gear now and dropped those bastards. They never could pace the long runs anyway. ;-)

Kiss your lovies, everyone. See you on the home trails, East or West.

 - SD

Why Do Endurance Sports? Answer - The Wall, The Pit, and The Abyss

I had another Long Run Revelation this weekend (see previous LLR's,  Part I - There Is No Such Thing As Work/Life Balance, Only Life Balance, and Part II - Want A Fulfilled Life? Embrace Death), one of those blissful moments of clarity around life's big questions that occurs after a couple of hours of exercise. This revelation was prompted by a question from a parent of one of Sophie's friends, which is one I'm sure we all get regularly:

Why do you do it? Why beat yourself up with all that ultra and Ironman training, only to beat yourself up even more on race day? Even worse, why do you keep doing it?

It's a hard question to answer, especially to people unfamiliar with our world. How do you give a short response without sounding crazy? If you say "I like to challenge myself", you are clearly a masochist. If you say "it's a spiritual journey that I share with like-minded people", they think you are one step away from joining the Hare Krishnas. And God forbid you reply "I like the belt buckles"...they will call the funny farm and have you in a straight jacket immediatement.

So how best to answer this question without oversimplifying, and still root the response enough in practicality to give them a takeaway?  Here's what came to me:


The Wall, The Pit, and The Abyss - What Defines You Lies Just Beyond Each Of These Challenges.

The Wall
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Most people have heard about "The Wall". It's that physical challenge most of us hit around mile 20 in a marathon (often exclaimed as "oh, sh*t, I just hit the wall") when your glycogen gets dangerously close to "E" and your body starts messing with you to get you to stop. Cramps, fatigue, twitchiness, fluctuating body temp, and an ego ready to throw in the towel. It's not fun. But in truth, it's a defining part of the marathon experience. When you push yourself through this barrier, moving forward despite everything your body is signaling, you learn to trust your will. You find, on the other side of that wall, that you are far more courageous than you thought. You engage, and build, your character. You finish a stronger person.

In a nutshell, that's really it. What lies beyond the challenge is what defines you. By overcoming your own perceived limits, you face the undeniable truth that you are stronger than you thought, and thus must redefine your self image as a more confident and capable person. It's not always a conscious thought, but it's always there. It's what gets you sign up for the next one.

So why not just do marathons? Isn't The Wall enough? For some, yes. But what happens if you go farther?

The Pit
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Beyond The Wall lies "The Pit". This is when your head is so full of reasons to stop, so many excuses piling up that you can barely acknowledge them (let alone answer them), that it feels like quicksand pulling you into a deep pit. I usually find this around mile 38-42 of an ultra, or at mile 3 of the run in a Half Ironman. You try and claw your way out of the pit, but the mounting excuses are relentless. It's all the reasons you aren't good enough, all of your self-doubts, and every parental/ex-boyfriend/ex-girlfriend/bully-at-recess lashing that you have unwillingly stored in your memory banks. It's self-imposed mental torture. And it seriously sucks ass.

Then suddenly, you get tired of hearing all that bullsh%t and just push on through. What awaits you on the other side is a calm serenity; a flow where you hear nothing but the rhythm of your steps. Hours feel like minutes, and in this peaceful state your world is awash in possibilities. Then you realize the source of all of those excuses - it was you! Ha, ha! It was you all along! Little did you know you could just turn it off like a spigot. Most of us need to push ourselves to this limit to understand that the ability to create a strong, positive outlook lies within. When you feel it, it's almost embarrassing how simple it is access. My God, what a revelation.

It may not be clear to you in that moment, but your self-image just sprouted like a spring flower sipping the first rays of sun. This experience builds confidence unlike anything I have ever witnessed. I see it in the smiles of all ultrarunners, and is one of the reasons I love to be a part of any event, racing, volunteering, or just cheering. It's why I keep coming back - give those flowers more sunshine!

The Abyss
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Beyond The Pit, lies the ultimate spiritual, mental, emotional, and physical challenge called "The Abyss". It's when you've taken yourself frightfully close to your limitations, stripped away all of your judgment and ego, and find yourself staring into a black void so incomprehensively large that it forces you to redefine everything. And I mean everything. Time won't just stop, it will become irrelevant, as will most of reality. What is your place in this universe? Who is your God? What defines me? It's why buddhists meditate. It's why shamans fast or take peyote. To go beyond The Abyss is to find enlightenment and truth. It's to understand and embrace your role in the cosmos. Endurance sports can absolutely help you find it.

Mark Twain summed it up well when he said "Man looks in the abyss, there's nothing staring back at him. At that moment, man finds his character. And that is what keeps him out of the abyss." (some will know this from the movie, Wall Street) Friedrich Nietzche also pointed out "When you stare into the abyss, it also stares into you." My own experience with The Abyss combines the two - "the abyss is the great mirror, the reflection of your soul, and my God, it's full of stars." No matter how you slice it, it's a worthy quest when you're ready for it.

When do you encounter The Abyss? Mile 80 of a 100-miler? The last 10k or an Ironman? Maybe never? Yes to all. But to have a chance at finding it, you have to make it to the starting line of a great challenge and be open to the possibility that it's out there. If you do, I guarantee you will finish the day a very different person than when you started, no matter how your day goes.

So there it is - The Wall, The Pit, and The Abyss. I'm finding it's a good way of explaining the passion for endurance sports, while giving people a taste of the rewards at different levels. I would love to hear if any of you also have good ways to explain our drive to do endurance sports. Perhaps something a bit more succinct. ;-)

- SD

Long Run Revelations, Part II - Want A Fulfilled Life? Embrace Death.

 

(Photo courtesy of poet Ollie Lind)

Have you ever noticed that half of the stories in endurance magazines sound like Mad Libs for people in recovery? Sometimes I swear they just plug in the facts:

"[Name] got into running after recovering from [near-fatal disease or accident] just [random number] years ago. "I was in bed, feeling sorry for myself, [another random number] pounds overweight, and my [body part] looked like [bad food or construction analogy]. I decided the best way to beat [near-fatal disease or accident] was to celebrate the health I had one day at a time. I trained for months and completed [major race]. I'm not embarrassed about my [body part] since it gives me a chance to educate others about [near-fatal disease or accident]. I've now hooked up with [charity of near-fatal disease or accident] to run more, and hope to inspire others with [near-fatal disease or accident] and be living proof it is possible to overcome."

Unfortunately it's easy to gloss over the message in these formulaic summaries. In truth, there is something very powerful at the heart of these tales. This is Part II of my long run revelations:

"To lead a fulfilled life, embrace death."

I've had the good fortune of losing some friends and family in the last six months. I know that sounds backwards, since the pain and loss that immediately accompanies such devastation is soul-crushing. But by embracing loss and authentically internalizing the myriad of feelings that surround it, life feels more precious. Life IS more precious. If we are living, we are survivors. We should all embrace life as fully as our formulaic heroes.

It's such a shame that most of us can easily avoid our own finality in day-to-day routine, distracting media, and pharmacologically-enhanced lives. Comfort is good, and probably necessary for some level of sanity, but it's important to regularly remind yourself not to take it all for granted. I often feel this is the reason many of us enter endurance events and push our personal limits - we surround ourselves in pain and adventure so thick that we can't escape asking ourselves the very basic questions of what makes us happy, what makes us tick, and what gives life meaning. Through the pain, we grow, and for days afterward, we cherish every breath, every sunset, and every laugh.

At the 2009 Western States, I got so deep it got scary. But the serenity that followed lasted for weeks, even months, and was nothing short of life-changing. If 27+ hours on the trail is all it takes to reach that level of enlightenment and peace, it may very well have been the easiest thing I have ever done.

Embrace your finality. Treasure the moments you have. See life in its fullest hue. It's the best way to honor those who left before you, and makes for MUCH better stories.

- SD


[You can also read Long Run Revelations, Part I - There Is No Such Thing As Work/Life Balance, Only Life Balance]

Long Run Revelations, Part I - There Is No Such Thing as Work/Life Balance

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"There is no such thing as work/life balance....there is only life balance."

I'm starting a new section of my blog called "Long Run Revelations" in honor of those moments of clarity that often kick in on those weekend 20-milers. For me, it's about two hours into the run when my body transcends the pain, my brain goes into hyper-awareness, and my soul opens up like a sun-hungry flower. It's a blissful state, and when it happens I always feel like I've stumbled upon something divine.

Usually about the time I'm thinking of nothing but the rhythm of my feet, the most profound thoughts enter my head. This week was a repeat of one of my favorites - "there is no such thing as work/life balance...there is only life balance".

The term work/life balance defines itself with unneeded polarity,  putting "work" and "life" as the two opposing forces on your emotional and spiritual see saw. I don't remember where I heard it first, but it was long enough ago to absorb without question. The contrast of work and life distracts one from the last word in the phrase - "balance" - and by doing so, kind of defeats the purpose of the term. By simplifying even further, I think it provides clarity.

"Life balance" rings more true for me. Life has many facets, and each of them can be tapped into for positive energy, including work. What's most important is to understand every part of your life where passion gives you energy and optimism, and make sure you get regular feedings.As the band Us3 once said, "you gotta get mad knowledge of self". Work does not have to be the black hole that sucks everything else into its vortex. If you work on things that excite you, surround yourself with fun and passionate people, you shouldn't need to compromise. Know thyself and there is no excuse for being in a job that erodes your passions.

That goes for any dimension of your life. Occasionally assessing to make sure no one part is becoming the black hole of your world (ie, training, parenthood, hobbies, etc) is the best way to determine your life balance. The long run is a great place to do it.

Hope you are all having a great week!

- SD