An Ultra Marathon with Romance in the Air

Romance is an interesting concept. It is often associated with an atmosphere that has special meaning. Maybe it’s dining at a favorite restaurant, enjoying a cup of coffee or glass of wine with your partner while overlooking the ocean, being greeted by your partner with flowers, or just holding hands with that special person as you stroll through a park. I am fairly confident that most people would not say watching your partner literally running in circles for 48 hours sounds romantic. Yet here my wife was with me in Hainesport, New Jersey to watch me do just that at the Hainesport Endurance Run.

But romance is about more than setting and atmosphere. It also lives in small gestures that others may overlook but mean a great deal to the person receiving them. After more than 35 years of marriage, my wife and I know each other so well that surprises are rare. Still, her offer to crew me during this 48-hour run caught me completely off guard. I have done most of these runs alone because crewing is a lot to ask of anyone, even my wife. It means long stretches of waiting, followed by fetching whatever food, drinks, or gear the runner needs. Her offer was about supporting me, not doing something for herself. To me, that is romantic.

Ironically at the same time my wife would be crewing me, my brother and his wife would be vacationing on the coast of Portugal, my sister and her husband were touring Crete and Italy, and my  daughter and her husband would also be travelling  to Europe on their belated honeymoon.  All of these destinations seem like more romantic excursions. So, I kept asking my wife if she was sure about this. She assured me she was, although she added a caveat that she’d crew me only if the weather was nice.  That makes sense as romance is often weather-related.

The weather report for the weekend promised one nice fall day but the second day was looking very iffy. Despite that forecast, my wife decided to join me and that first morning we set up our sturdy canopy. The last one I had was destroyed at my last race in a thunderstorm, so we decided to splurge on a sturdier brand that also included walls if we wanted to put them up—which we did.

The first 24 hours I was doing pretty good. I was hoping to complete about 120 miles. I was ahead of my pace in no small part because of my wife. This was a mile loop so I ran by frequently and would tell her what I needed when I came around.  It may not seem like much but having my food out and ready instead of searching through the ice chest for something saved so much time.  She also instinctively kept track of my calories, urging me to get some in. We were a good team. I was really appreciating her gesture of crewing me. It was romantic.

While the first 24 hours was good, the same could not be said for the next 24 hours. The next morning remnants of storm Isaias came in. At first, it wasn’t too bad but then the wind and rain picked up. I remembered my wife’s caveat and told her she should get a hotel room. My friends Dave and Robert, who were already not having their best runs, were going to call it a race. I continued on but my rain gear was not great since it was water resistant, not waterproof. I somehow put on two layers of water-resistant gear, and it was manageable but not ideal. My wife then decided to go to Walmart and get me waterproof gear. This was a true gesture of love and romance. So, while the rain and wind howled, we shared a romantic moment.  While she shopped, I trudged on, though a bit slower than before.

She later returned with a waterproof jacket, she could not find pants, but I borrowed a pair of waterproof pants from my friend Dave who was dropping out. We seemed set.

I kept moving during the day, but the weather never improved. In fact, it got a lot windier. The few times I was in our camp the wind shook the walls and one time we even held onto the metal posts to make sure it stayed in place. I should note that we are not spring chickens. I am 67 and my wife is 70. She is also not very big so holding this canopy together was not easy.

It was getting later in the afternoon when my wife said that she had made an “executive decision” that we needed to take down our camp and she would stay in the car. She had already booked a hotel.  She was fearful that the canopy would not hold. When she makes an executive decision that means I have no say in the verdict. Taking down the camp in the wind and rain was difficult since we had so much equipment, including a table, ice chest, plastic bins, chairs and other gear. We also had to walk about 50 yards or so to the car and everything we put in the car was soaking wet, especially the canopy.

As we were putting the last items in the car, I knew that she had enough. I told her that I would pull out. A small gesture of romance which she topped immediately.  “No, you keep going and get your 100 miles,” she said. (I also had made an executive decision earlier and told her I would stop after 100 miles.) I warned her that it might take a few hours since she would be sitting in the car. “It’s okay you go,” she replied. “God I love her” I thought but only replied “thanks.”

I headed off walking fast a couple of loops with a man named Dennis who had entered the race for the last 12 hours. Darkness was setting in and the asphalt pathway was flooded in several areas. The water was over our shoes, and our feet were getting soaked. I kept thinking of my wife in the car and said to Dennis. “I have to run. My wife has endured enough.” So, I took off for the last ten miles and my feet were waterlogged.  I made no attempt to avoid the many flooded paths since the grass was a swamp and it was quicker to just run through the water and be uncomfortably wet. Luckily the water was not cold.

Before my last lap I went to the parking lot and told her that I would be finishing. When I got to the finish she was there to observe my shock that I needed to do one more lap. The course was just shy of a mile, so I had to do 101 laps to get the 100 miles. That was the hardest mile to do because I had thought I was done.

When I received my buckle for doing 100 miles my wife quipped “I should get one too.” She’s right. Without her I might have achieved 100 miles, but it would have taken me much longer. That’s been the pattern of our life together—because of her support I have achieved more than I otherwise would have.

It was great to take off my sopping wet shoes and socks.  When we got to the hotel my wife had a sandwich for me which was perfect because I was starving. I had not really eaten anything the last few hours. Another gesture of love and romance. It definitely was a race with miserable weather but terrific romance.

Now I am sure that some readers might think that while this is a nice story about the affection a couple has for each other, in no way does a weekend spent largely outside during a windy rainstorm qualify as a romantic interlude. I will tell you that I believe my wife would agree with you. A visit to Italy, Portugal or anywhere in Europe would make for a more romantic getaway.

I am now looking at places to visit for a more traditional romantic vacation. In my research I have found that they have ultra-marathons in almost all European countries. So, we could enjoy a picturesque villa in Italy—and my wife could also crew me at an ultra-marathon there!

What can I say?  I am just hopeless romantic.

Are Humans Born to Run?

I was young man in my late twenties living at home. I was very unsure of my life’s direction, and it weighed heavily on me.  On summer evenings I would put a leash on our dog Boo and walk down the end of the street to a local golf course. There was a path at the end of the street that led to the course. I would walk along the edge of the golf course to another path that led to a trail in the forest. We would walk a short distance to another trail to a berm that bordered a swamp. The area was generally wet, but the berm was nice and dry.

I would let Boo off her leash, and she would take off along the trail. I would run alongside her for a short time but could not match her speed. She would stop and look at me after a while. I would take off running full speed away from her. It was her cue to chase me, which she did with great fervor. She would pass me like I was running in slow motion. As we ran back and forth we both had great joy. We would do this repeatedly until she was tired. Then I would put her leash back on and we would walk back to the house. Back to our regular lives.

I thought of that moment in my life when I read an article by Tjeerd Zwinkels.  He is one of those writers (he is also a runner) who believes our caveman ancestors were natural-born runners. The ability to run long distances helped us to become dominant over other species. Christopher McDougall in his book Born to Run made that hypothesis popular. This is a great book whether or not you believe the hypothesis or even run.

Basically, the hypothesis is this: How did the human race survive in the African plains with animals that are much stronger and faster? Animals that had claws and fangs that could crush our bones and were so prevalent that even being a scavenger was not easy. Yet it seems that even without having developed weapons yet, we still ate meat. How could that be?

Humans are one of the only animals that sweat to cool down.  All other animals pant. So, the logic holds that packs of humans would run down a deer-like animal into exhaustion. Because panting is not as effective as sweating. Furthermore, everyone in the unit would also need to run because the kill may be miles away from the start. There is no evidence that our ancestors suffered from pulled muscles or hamstrings. They just prevailed.

Now this is an interesting theory and quite hard to believe if you look at the human race now. Most people can’t even run down a Whopper at Burger King, or a Pumpkin Spice Latte at Starbucks. They use the drive-in. Yes, I run but the majority of people I know do not run and have no intention of doing so. The remarks I get most often when I tell people that I run ultra-marathons is “You go that far on purpose?”, “I get tired driving that far.” or “The only time you will see me running is if something is chasing me!”

Yet despite our more sedentary lifestyle now, I believe that there is something to this theory.  Even if we are not all natural born long-distance runners, we are designed to be physically active. After all it is only very recently in our existence that power tools were invented, and technology advanced to make our lives physically easier.

When I had to go to physical therapy for a knee injury, I remember the physical therapist saying “Remember the body was designed to move.” Evolution had designed the body to walk, run, and lift as well as other physical activities. Running was definitely one of those activities the body was designed for. Just look at toddlers in play, they are always on the move.

If you look at our first form of entertainment, which was sports, there are activities with ancient roots like track and field, lacrosse and soccer. They almost all demand running.

Yet if you look at our society today you can see that evolution will see no need for us to be physically active, especially running. After all, it does not take much physical dexterity to ask Siri to turn on the lights. We give our kids screens to look at so they settle down.

While we may be hurtling towards an evolutionary transformation into a human slug, we are not there yet. There are moments in our current lives when even the most sedate among us get that urge to move and be physically active. It could be dancing at a wedding or walking the streets of a historic city on vacation.

During a very sedate time in my life when I seem to spend all my time working and watching TV, those ancient urges to move still came over me. My dog Boo joined me running and we were both joyful. At our wedding reception, when my wife and I were introduced, we did not walk out to the dance floor—we  ran. Actually, I ran dragging my wife behind. I did not even realize I had run onto the dance floor until I saw the video. It was just a natural instinctive action.

I go back and forth on whether humans were “born to run”. When I am at a race with other runners it is an obvious yes. When I am in the supermarket watching everyone stock their carts with high-calorie foods it’s a no.

But there is one thing that I am sure of. Some people are in touch with their ancestral roots and are definitely born to run. I am one of them.

67 Hours-Blistering Heat-A Severe Thunderstorm-A Lot of Miles-A Positive Mindset

As I sat in my camp waiting for my start time at ARFTA (A Race For The Ages) I was feeling confident about the race. I really had no good reason to be confident. This was my first race since May 2 when I was running a 50K trail in New York State. That race was a disaster as I fell hard and broke my shoulder. I was laid up in a sling for almost two months and did not run for a little more than two months. I did run for two months before this race, but it was not the most intensive training I have ever done. The other thing that gave me pause besides my training was that it was unbearably hot with temperatures expected to be over 100 degrees on the asphalt during the middle of the day. Heat is the most difficult weather for me to conquer as a runner. Some of my most difficult times as a runner have been in excessive heat.

During the time I was recovering from my injury, I almost cancelled my registration for this race, thinking that I definitely was not prepared to run well over 100 miles. Then I saw that the legendary ultra runner Ann Trason, who has rheumatoid arthritis, was going to run the race with her walker. My excuse seemed so flimsy in comparison that I had no choice but to continue.

Yet despite my earlier trepidation, for some reason I was confident that I could run quite a few miles in the 67 hours allotted to me. The year before I had done 160 miles and while I did not expect to do that again I was sure I could get in at least 130 miles. When I was training my mindset was positive. Training for me is not just about the physical aspect but keeping your mindset positive and gritty. I always envision conquering my next race as I do a training run.

Start times for ARFTA are by age. The older you are, the earlier you start. I was in with the other 67-year-olds and about half the runners were older than us and the other half were younger. There were a little more than 150 people registered.

My plan was simple. I planned to accumulate most of my miles in the night and early morning. During the middle of that day, when temperatures were over 100 degrees, my plan was to take it easy and move it slower. Maybe I would even take my naps during the middle of the day. It sounded great on paper but last year I couldn’t stay awake at night and overslept a couple of times. I also wondered how easy it would be to sleep in the brutal heat with the sun shining.

That first night actually went well. My age group started at 4 p.m. so we did not get much of the brutal heat. I was able to stay awake pretty much the whole night. I had used an electrolyte that was infused with caffeine and every hour or so I would take a swig of Pepsi, which also contains caffeine. What I did notice, however, was that in my age group were two super-strong runners. Steve, who in the past three years had run over 200 miles and won two out of the three races, was one of them. The other was Ed, who I met in the morning over breakfast. He was very impressive and seemed stronger than even Steve that first night.

As the morning came, I still felt okay. The heat was rising fast and wherever there was shade I ran in it. Then the heat by 10 a.m. was brutal and I noticed fewer runners. I myself just went to a steady walk. I saw Ed and he said he was going to take a nap, so I did not see him again for a few hours. Nobody was running except Steve and even he slowed down to a walk. Some people decided to rest at a hotel and get refreshed and then run harder in the late afternoon after the heat had broken somewhat.  I just went slowly trying to accumulate miles but not overexert and burn myself out.

I was drinking plenty of fluids and kept eating every six hours or so. Towards the end of the afternoon, I called my wife to touch base, and she said I was doing good. She told me that I was in the top twenty. I forgot that there was a link where you could follow the runners online, but I wasn’t worried about standings yet.

Overnight as it got closer to midnight, we could all see and hear thunder and lightning in the distance. Every time I completed a loop, I either picked something from my camp and put in my car, or I moved things to the middle of the canopy to keep them from getting wet in the impending storm.

Then the storm hit and it was torrential. It was not only a lot stronger than I anticipated but it lasted a lot longer. It was almost three hours. I had taken shelter in my car and dozed off in the car for some much-needed sleep. Then the rain stopped and everyone started popping out and started walking and running again. It was about 3 a.m. and I checked my canopy and camp. My heart sank. While it had survived the wind, the water had pooled on the canopy and it collapsed. I took the tarp off the mangled frame. It was dark so I told myself that I would continue moving and assess the damage in the light. Besides I was closing in on 100 miles.

Yet as I moved my mind was not in a good place. I was contemplating getting my 100 miles and calling it a race since I would not have a camp. It was going to be another hot day, and I would not have any shelter. Yet I kept moving, walking very steadily and with purpose. The storm had not only cost me my camp but time for covering miles.

When daylight came it confirmed my initial thoughts that my camp was no longer viable. I decided however that I would keep my antigravity chair, ice chest and one plastic bin out in the open under some trees and continue my race.  This day was extremely hot like the previous day. Many runners in the middle of the day again took a break away from the heat and headed to a hotel or their camp to get away from the heat. I trudged on with only a couple of things slowing me down. The first was every time I came by I would try to clean up one thing in my camp. Often that meant throwing things out near the garbage can. That included my canopy frame. The second thing that slowed me down was that as the sun rose my chair was now in the sun and I had to keep moving it into the shade. Almost a reverse sundial.

As the last night was coming upon us Patty from Texas said to me “Ray you are doing good. You’re in the top ten.” I had completely forgotten once again that we could track the standings. I checked the standings and saw that I was in eighth place. The competitive juices came out, and I wanted to stay in the top ten. I actually picked up my pace.

It is hard to explain how one keeps going in the wee hours of the night with little sleep, but I did. There were a couple of times I was exhausted and took longer rests—perhaps 25 minutes or so. I remember coming out and starting to move after a longer rest. Someone yelled to someone else. “Number 8 is back out.” I guess others were checking the standings. We were all pushing each other. The gap between fifth place and ninth place was only a few miles. I had to keep going if I was going to stay in the top ten.

I did pause however to watch Ann Trason, the runner who suffers from rheumatoid arthritis, get to 100 miles with her walker just before the sun rose. It was a very impressive feat.

My pace was much better now, and I saw that I moved up to sixth place in the morning. The problem was that all the people behind me were still moving so if I stopped, I would surely fall in the standings. I didn’t want to fall in the standings, I noticed one runner, Ruth was moving faster than me. If I was going to maintain sixth place, I would need to pick up my pace which I did and actually ran two of the last three laps before the noon end time to put me at 151 miles which amazed me. I had more in the tank than I thought.

After the race I got to my hotel room and checked in early. I showered, then ate a sandwich and tried to drink a beer but after eating I fell sound asleep in the afternoon not even halfway through the beer.

Looking back, I think that my confidence is what got me through the race despite the heat and my limited training. Doing ultramarathons is often more a mental game than a physical one. Keeping a positive mindset and focusing on moving forward is so important. When you are running and walking for almost three days you have to overcome negative thoughts that creep into your head.

Early in the race I remember crossing paths with Steve who ended up winning the race. I yelled “How are you doing?”  He shakes his head and says, “I’m not feeling it.” I replied, “You will.” Like me, after my camp was destroyed, he was down but just kept going until pretty soon he was dominating. That is what the mental training does for you. It gets through those negative moments.

Maybe I didn’t have a good reason for being confident, but confidence is what got me through the race successfully.

The Race Bling for A Race For The Ages (ARFTA) is Friendship

I was walking around the A Race For The Ages (ARFTA) course in Manchester, Tennessee waiting for my start time when I spied someone who had the same race shirt as I did. Mine was in my plastic bin with all my other gear as I was planning on wearing it the next day. Yet this shirt from the Hainesport Endurance Race was from last year and almost certainly meant that runner was from my home state of New Jersey. So, I approached him and I soon had a new friend, Walt. That is the magic of ARFTA – you seem to always make a new friend.

Even before the race started, friendships were being made. I arranged to have dinner with a perfect stranger from Texas, Dave. I didn’t realize that he had two other Texans with him, Michael and Patty. When Dave introduced me to the two of them and Patty heard I was from New Jersey she replied, “So you’re a Yankee!” We all laughed. Sometimes I do feel like an out of place visitor when I travel, except at races. It is my home away from home. It was wonderful to share a great dinner with them and talk about ultra-running. It is not often that I eat dinner with people and they know who Sally McRae, Courtney Dauwalter, and Ashley Paulson are.

The next morning at the hotel breakfast, I met Ed who was also eating breakfast. We also talked a while about running. He was an impressive runner, having finished the Bigfoot 200, a grueling 200-plus-mile run through the Cascades of Washington State with more than  40,000 feet of elevation change. That is something I am not sure I could do. He would also be starting with me since we were in the same age group.

My Friends from Texas

An hour before my start time I checked in and picked up my race bling. I love my race bling, and my wife knows that race shirts, mugs, medals and other bling should never be thrown out. The ARFTA race has great bling. This year it was a participation trophy, a tote bag, a sweatshirt, and an umbrella. (Something I never received before.) A great cache of goodies. Yet the keepsakes I prize most are the friendships that are made.

I go to a lot of races, and I always find people to connect with but at ARFTA it seems easier and more frequent. The connections also seem slightly deeper.

I am not sure why that is. It is not because the course is beautifully laid out. It is mostly on a black asphalt parking lot that zigzags around in an unusual pattern. It is not because of the weather –it is always hot and made even hotter by the asphalt. This year it was more brutal than usual in that temperatures rose to over 100 degrees during the day. It is not because of the food. While it is plentiful and filling, it is provided by Cracker Barrel, so it is definitely not for everyone, especially if you are a vegetarian. It is not because of the location, because while the city of Manchester is nice, Conde Nast Traveler isn’t considering sending over a reporter to do a featured piece on the city.

Looking at it now it may be precisely because the course is so hot that it brings people together. We are all miserable together. We are all going through the same thing whether we are in the top ten or the bottom ten in the standings. There is a camaraderie that is built through this common misery.

The other thing is that your race hours are calculated by your age. You get as many hours as you are old. So, the older you are the longer you are out there. You see the same people over the course of three days if you include set up and registration. Because the route is snaky you see people more often across the parking lot. Even when you are resting, your camp is usually close to the course, so you see runners pass on by regularly.

The connection is not just with other runners but with their family or friends that are crewing them. The crews can be just as invested in the race as the runners. On this race I was coming around finishing a lap when the race director, Sandra, greeted me with an ice pop. It was like a gift from heaven. When I thanked her for the pop and that it was a great idea, she said “We didn’t do it. It was someone from North Carolina.”  I immediately said “Sarah!” They said, “How did you know?” She was camped across from me last year crewing her dad. She bought ice pops last year. She had so much fun and so admired everyone that she was following this year’s race, even though her father was not participating. That is the magic of ARFTA.

There were so many other people I met who were just fun to share a course with. Ruth and Paul, who are a dynamic team. Melissa, who thanked me profusely for lending her a hammer. Steve, who once again dominated the race with his amazing pace. However, Ann Trason was the most inspiring to me. She was once the premier female ultra runner in the country, having set 20 world records. She was a pioneer for women ultra-runners. Now, beset by rheumatoid arthritis as well as other health issues, she keeps going. At 66 she completed 100 miles with a walker. I had the privilege of walking with her for a couple of laps. I told her what she is doing now is more impressive than when she was dominating the women’s field.

Yes, I love the challenge of pushing myself to my limits but that is not what keeps me coming back. When Walt and I chatted before the race we agreed that we come back to races like this because of the people. In world that seems so hopelessly divided it is great to go to a place in which everyone is so supportive of each other, everyone is trying their best, and even when things go wrong like the heat, we share our misery together. Also, you always see runners like Ann Trason who inspire you.

When I got home, I collected my last race bling. I “friended” the runners I got to know on social media. I now can follow their running exploits. I ran/walked a total of 151 miles, but I always remember the conversations and the people just as much as the miles. Maybe more. That is why I will return.

New Jersey in the House

John Bulina a Kind and Generous Man

I was running from the Cape May Lighthouse at the southern end of New Jersey to the doorsteps of a house in Tabernacle, New Jersey.  It was a journey of more than 80 miles, and was not even halfway to our final destination at High Point, N.J., at the northern tip of the state.

The journey had not gone smoothly. We had started as three runners, but one had to drop out and this caused us a delay in our schedule.  When we arrived in Tabernacle, I knocked on the door gently because it was after midnight. I was very cognizant of the way sound travels in the wee hours. My running partner Anthony had collapsed on the front steps. I was also praying that I had arrived at the right house. If it was the wrong house, I would have to explain what I was doing at this house to a police officer.

The door opened and it was my friend John Bulina. I apologized profusely for being a couple of hours behind schedule and keeping him up. He would have none of it. He was glad to help us in our trek across the length of New Jersey. He showed us where we could sleep and apologized that he and his wife were off early in the morning but urged us to make use of their kitchen in the morning.

The next morning, we rose and John was gone, but there were muffins, bagels, coffee, and juice left for us.  We were on a journey so we could not stay long. Anthony, however, as we ran, asked me about John. He was amazed by his kindness and generosity.  I told him that I knew him through my work at the New Jersey School Boards Association (NJSBA). I mentioned that John was a past state officer and president of the association. Anthony had met him only for a few minutes and was barely awake at the time. He just shook his head and was so impressed.

Last week when I received a call that John had passed away, I thought of that encounter. It spoke volumes and was emblematic of John’s character.  While Anthony was a bit flabbergasted at his generosity I don’t think anyone who knew John during his tenure at NJSBA would be shocked.

John’s tenure in leadership at NJSBA was marked by his kindness towards NJSBA staff and the volunteer board members he served with. I know for a fact that both Marie Bilik and Dr. Lawrence Feinsod, the NJSBA executive directors who worked with John when he was a state officer, appreciated his input.  Even if he had some negative input, it was always done with kindness and understanding. That is what made him stand out, his sincerity and kindness.

I know that with me he always talked to me not just as a staff member but as an individual. Unlike many work relationships, our conversations were more about life outside of work such as family, travel, and athletics. John was an avid skier, soccer coach, and golfer.

John was a naturally curious man as well. He loved it when people brought new ideas up. He didn’t shut them down but was eager to try them.  Years ago, when NJSBA was exploring its relationship with the U.S. Army and the idea of STEAM Tank was first floated John was huge fan and a catalyst for both initiatives.  STEAM Tank was a program that made students use Science, Technology, Engineering, Arts, and Mathematics in a competition modeled after the TV show Shark Tank. John was sold on the idea and was constantly supporting not only the executive director, but all staff involved in the program, and his support was heartily welcomed by the staff.

His curiosity made him a great conversationalist. He had a unique background and was interested in what other people were doing.

Once you spend what seems like an eon at place like NJSBA as I have (more than 28 years) you look back and realize what seems like just a short time ago  to ago toold history to newer employees. I realized most of the current staff had never worked with John. He had not served on his board for about ten years. Yet, he left his mark at the association as the STEAM Tank Challenges exemplified.

Yet I think what most of us will remember most about John was his warmth, generosity, and kindness.  When he was president, he would come to NJSBA headquarters dressed as Santa Claus and spread cheer during the holiday season.

What I didn’t say about John opening up his house to me was that it was his idea.  He called me up when he saw my planned journey. He said if I needed a place to stay that I was more than welcome, especially since I would be running right near his home. This offer came despite the fact that we hadn’t worked together for about six years. That was John—always thinking of how he could help others. While this is my story, I am sure that many others can share a positive story about John.

It was a warmth and generosity that anyone could spot. Even my friend Anthony who was barely able to walk or stand and only saw John for less than 20 minutes could sense that this was a good man. We will all miss that most about him.

Rest in peace my friend.

 

Is Adventurous Running the Key to a Happy Life?

I had breakfast with a friend recently and our conversation drifted all over the place. We discussed work, leadership, and creating a life with meaning. Building a purposeful life is different for me now that I am in my 60s than it was when I was thirty. During the conversation my running adventures came up.  Running is now a core part of my identity.

As we parted ways, my friend said to me “Ray with your running adventures and outlook you have the best grasp of the work/life balance of anyone I know.” That was one of the nicest compliments I have ever received. I am not sure if she thought that because I have a handle on work/life balance or if it’s just that everyone else she knows, doesn’t!  I would like to think it is the former. I will admit that for some reason I find balancing life easier now than when I was younger.

I also think that she hit on a key reason for my perceived balance—my adventures in ultra-marathon running.  It doesn’t seem immediately intuitive that taking additional time out of my busy life to run for long periods of time would add balance to my life, but it has. I have to say I am happy in my life. I am not sure why I am afraid to admit that but I am. It’s not that everything goes my way but a snub or conflict at work does not define me. I think too many people have their identity wrapped up in their work. More on that later.

Yet I knew that she was correct that my running has led to much more happiness. I wasn’t sure why. But I knew in my heart that it was true.

The next day I picked up a week-old copy of the New York Times that I had meant to read but hadn’t found the time. After I read the articles for which I had saved the paper for, I serendipitously noticed a small headline about a podcast Why are People Drawn to Extreme Sports. This reignited my thinking of how ultra-running had changed me. Since this was a paper newspaper (Yes, on weekends I still get a paper copy of the New York Times.) I had to do a quick search and found the podcast Speaking of Psychology: Why are People Drawn to Extreme Sports. The guest was an Australian psychologist Dr. Eric Brymer. I thought maybe this might explain my experience.

I almost didn’t listen to the whole podcast because his definition of “extreme sports” was a narrow one. A criterion was that possible death was the result of a miscalculation. For example, cliff jumping or rock climbing with just your hands and no equipment.  While Dr. Brymer would not consider ultra running an “extreme sport” his profile of the individuals who participate in those sports did resonate with my personal experiences and motivations.

When you think of why people would get involved in such sports, including ultra-running, there is a two-part question. First: Why did they start down that road?  The more important question though is: Why do they continue to pursue these endeavors even as they age? I have pondered why I can’t stop and why do I push myself? It was hard to explain but Dr. Brymer’s findings affirm my feelings. He states that “Actually, what we find is for most participants, the reason they continue is because they get something so powerfully transformational and beneficial from it.”

That is a good description of why I continue. There are benefits to ultra-running that Dr. Brymer touches on. It has been known for a long time that physical activity is good for the body and the soul.  It is also known that being outdoors near nature is good for you as well so any activity that combines both is good for you. What separates “extreme” sports and I will include ultra-running in that from other activities is that you almost always get tested personally. Your planning, preparation and skills are always being tested. Each race is so different that every race is an adventure.

This brings me back to my friend who thought that somehow, I have a balanced life, and that my running had something to do with it. Dr. Brymer would agree. As he states “…doing the adventure, and the extreme sport, does change your attitude in everyday life as well. It changes the way you interact with others, the way you experience your relationship with the natural world, it changes the way you experience everyday activities.”

Both my friend and Dr. Brymer used the same word – adventure. My perception of life has changed through all these adventures. I have definitely gathered more confidence in my ability not just in running long distances but in my ability to do other things in my life. Yet there is more to it.

Much as traveling to faraway places broadens our experiences, ultra-running does the same for me. Dr. Brymer makes the case that humans by nature are adventurous beings. We pretty much expanded our homelands to the entire globe from a humble beginning in Africa.

Extreme sports (and I would include ultra-running) are very adventurous activities. They do make you feel more alive than sitting in an office on your computer. Nowadays we generally have safe comfortable lives, and technology makes our lives even easier every day. It is hard to break away from comfort of a recliner with a remote control, Siri, and your cellphone. We do for the most part have our food and shelter taken care of. Yet it is when we break away from that comfortable life when we really start to live.

I mentioned at the beginning that many people have their identity wrapped up in their work. To their credit they are usually very competent at their work. Maybe because that is the only part of their life in which they find adventure. Yet I have seen too many of them stay too long at a job because that is what identifies them. Having interests and activities outside of your work is healthier. It also makes you more interesting.

I believe that Dr. Brymer did hit on something when he spoke about doing something that is adventurous, although my definition would probably be more expansive than his. I think an adventurous endeavor is a more personal event. It does not have to be death-defying to be adventurous. The author Eudora Welty once wrote “All serious daring starts from within.”  An adventure just needs to be something that takes you out of your comfort zone and also tests you a bit.

For example, I ran the Grand Canyon Rim-to-Rim-to-Rim unsupported and solo. Something that Dr. Brymer might even said was “extreme” though as I was doing it I kept thinking to myself. I would love to do this slower. It wouldn’t be a harder adventure, but it would still be an adventure.

Some of my most memorable, uplifting and spiritual runs were not extremely difficult. Whether it was a desert run in Zion National Park, a rainy and windy run up along a rugged coastline of Ireland, or even a nice run on a country road in New England, they all had a bit of adventure to them. While they were in nature and had physical activity tied to them, they were far from extreme.

So, adventure is good for you, and you don’t necessarily have to go to extremes to find it. In fact, a good place to start is by looking within yourself.

Can a Great Blue Heron be a Sign from the Universe to Me?

Do you believe that sometimes the universe (or God) sends you a sign? Most cultures believe in omens and signs. They believe that crossing paths with a certain animal means something.

I will be honest. I thought a lot of this was hooey. I was extremely skeptical when someone would tell me they saw a cardinal and thought that it was their Uncle Joe visiting them. Yet this last week something happened that made me question my beliefs.

Since I broke my shoulder and can’t run, I have been walking the routes I normally run. While I enjoy the walks, the physical pain of this injury—along with the fact that I miss running—has been difficult for me.  

I live in an area full of lakes and ponds. So seeing a great blue heron is not a rarity. But every time I see one, I feel blessed somehow. To me they are majestic birds. But they are not a sign.

Yet as I walked by a local pond and looked over there was a great blue heron not ten feet from me. We were both in an open area so he obviously saw me but was not fearful. I whipped out my phone quickly and with my one good hand took a quick photo and continued on my walk. Later when I looked at the photo I was shocked at how great it came out. My wife, who is an amateur photographer, was amazed. The coloring of the bird was a vibrant blue and gray. The trees reflected a gorgeous green halo around the heron in the pond. It was a very lucky shot.

The next day, at another lake, I saw a great blue heron again. This time it was not on the water’s edge but about 30 feet in the forest. We looked at each other, and I paused before I walked on. He was in an unusual spot I thought. Maybe he was hunting chipmunks because I saw them scurrying nearby. I had never seen one there before.

Then the next day things changed dramatically. I was doing a long walk around a neighboring lake when once again I came across a great blue heron. He was near a boat rack full of kayaks and canoes. He looked at me as I went for my phone and then took off in flight across the lake. I stood there a while and watched him gracefully cross the lake. As I continued around the lake to the area where he had flown to, I saw the same bird walking from someone’s lakefront yard onto the road along the lake. He was strolling down the middle of the road. He was a good 300 feet from the water. As I got closer to him (Actually I keep referring to the heron as a he but I am no ornithologist and can’t tell the gender.) He crossed the road into a yard even further from the lake.

I am sure some people would say this was not unusual, that it was simply normal behavior for a great blue heron. But to me, it felt like more than coincidence. This skeptical cynic found himself going down an internet rabbit hole about the symbolism of the great blue heron. Maybe the universe was trying to tell me something, and I had been too cynical to understand it—or even to notice.

What did the heron symbolize, and how might it apply to me—if it did at all? Herons are famously solitary birds. They hunt alone and are known for their patience. They live at the water’s edge, yet they seem equally at home in the air, on land, and along the shore. Many cultures, including Christianity, associate the great blue heron with spirituality. Some even see a heron sighting as a sign that God is watching over them. I was surprised by how many people believed herons carried that kind of meaning.

Because the heron is a solitary bird, many people see it as a symbol of inner strength and determination. I came across one line about the heron’s symbolism that resonated with me: “Alone we have to face our fears, look at our gifts, and be in harmony with our world.” Yes, we need others, but sometimes we still have to face things on our own.

I stopped my internet searching for a while but came back to it. Was this bird my new “spirit” animal? I argued with myself. It was just a sighting, nothing more than that.

Yet I couldn’t shake the thought that there was something to this. I had suffered a broken shoulder and was healing steadily but slowly.  Maybe I needed to practice the patience of the heron on this healing journey. The physical therapy needed was solely on me. I needed to have some determination and inner strength to not only heal but to run again.

I started to read what I had written and I wondered if I was taking this too far.  A part of me still wanted to dismiss the whole thing.

Yet there I was with an injury and needing to heal and feeling great frustration and these weird sightings occurred. A beautiful picture that seemed to be taken by someone else. Herons in strange locations crossing my path. I chose to believe that there was something. Maybe I was making more of it than I should.

But when I learned about the symbolism associated with herons it felt like something I needed to do more than read about—I needed to channel it.  I know that some readers will think that I am reading too much into this. Others will most assuredly say that the universe or God does send us signs. What do you think?