There is a Price for Pushing Yourself to Your Limits in an Ultra

 

“I owned every second that this world could give
I saw so many places
The things that I did
Yeah, with every broken bone
I swear I lived” – OneRepublic

I believe strongly in pushing yourself to your limits.

Most times we do not even know what our limits are, or what we are capable of until we push ourselves. I have accomplished some things in running that I never dreamed of.

Since reaching the age of 60, I have run numerous races and ultra-marathons that I am proud of. Listing these accomplishments seems to give them a sense of inevitability that tends to minimize their difficulty.  Yet, as I was recently reminded, those difficulties are real and there is a price to be paid for pushing yourself to extremes.  

When I talk about the “price” I am not talking about the time put in for training or other considerations. I am talking about the price of failure. That price can be steep--sometimes very steep. The question is whether that price is worth it. This is something I ponder in every difficult endeavor.

You see on every ultra-marathon, even though I am running       solo, I have an unwelcome running partner who is not very supportive. Running alongside me is the possibility of failure. Because I am choosing to do something that is difficult for me, failure is a stronger possibility than if I had played it safe.

I was running a rugged 50K trail race in Bear Mountain, New York. The course was single-track, rocky, slippery, and had very few truly runnable sections. I felt good about my pace and stayed cautious on the slick, rocky parts. Then, while moving with the pack on a relatively flat stretch, I relaxed for a moment, tripped, and fell hard. I threw out my arms to catch myself, and the pain in my shoulder was immediately excruciating. With help from other runners, I got back to my feet and knew my race was over. I have fallen many times in trail races and am no stranger to pain. Usually, I shake it off and keep going, even if I have to walk at first. This time, though, my only thought was how to get medical help. I knew the injury was serious. It turned out I had broken the humerus in my shoulder.

I couldn’t remember how far it was to the next aid station. The other runners gave me conflicting answers from one mile to seven. While there was an aid station in about a mile and a half it was just a table in the woods with water. Even walking was painful as I had no use of my right arm. As I walked I used my left hand to steady and hold up my right arm. I was extremely lucky when two runners stopped to see if I needed help. One was trained in first aid and said I needed to put my arm in a sling. The other runner who didn’t know the first runner said “I have a roll of gauze.” And presto I had a sling.

While the sling helped, I still had to walk 3.5 miles to take a DNF (Did Not Finish). Yes, I had a solid reason for not finishing this race but I still found it hard to accept that I failed to finish. My very reason for running these races is to overcome difficult obstacles. As each runner passed me the pain of the DNF was more acute. I tried to take solace in the fact that if I hadn’t gotten hurt, I would have finished ahead of most of those runners. Yet I was still down. There would be no finisher medal and t-shirt for me.

It’s not like I was unaware of the possibility. After all when I registered for the race I had to sign a waiver that I was aware of the risks of doing a race like this.

Yet it was not just the DNF and the excruciating pain that I was in that had me thinking. All of the races and runs I had planned for the next couple of months would not happen. There was also the matter of my daughter was getting married in two weeks.

It was at the wedding that I paid another price for my injury. A couple of friends teased me about it. I had always said that ultra-marathons were “fun” which I know most people besides ultra-runners get. Now my friends wanted to know when the “fun” was starting. It is amazing how the result of your performance affects people’s perception of your actions. Last year I completed seven ultra-marathons and people complimented me and admired my accomplishments. Now, after this injury I heard the loud whispers. You are too old. This is too dangerous.

They obviously feel that the price I pay for pushing myself is too high. There is no way it can be worth it.

The question is what do I think of the possible price to attempt races that will test my limits? When I finish them, it is an easy answer. But when I fail, take a DNF, and am seriously injured it is still an easy answer. Yes, I would do the race again. In fact, I am scheduled to do the same race again next year.  Yes, the price was steep for this challenge. Yet those challenges would not be so rewarding if they were easy.

I have usually completed the hard races I’ve signed up for. That success breeds resiliency. That resiliency is what I needed to walk out of the forest and then drive over an hour home so my wife could get me medical care. That may seem like a steep price for one race. Yet the price I pay is for a lifestyle of doing hard things. When you look at all the races it is a small price to pay. In fact, if I include the resiliency and satisfaction of completing runs that were beyond my capabilities when I was younger, the price is miniscule.

We should not only try things when the risk of failure is very low. Easy victories are not life changing. Being afraid of failure will most certainly limit your success. I will admit however that talking about facing failure is easy when you succeed. For me now, I have to accept failure and plan a comeback that will most definitely rely on resiliency.  It will test my patience because this will be a slow and methodical recovery.

This comeback will take more effort to get to the starting line than most of my races took to get to the finish line. This will take more self-motivation than normal. I do have a goal of doing an ultra-marathon in September. It is a flat paved course so there is little risk of falling. Hey, I may be daring, but I am not reckless,

Ironically my motivation now comes from those people who think I should stop these races because of my age. Nothing motivates me more than proving the doubters wrong.

So, I hope I answered the question about the price of the challenge and whether it is worth it. Let me leave you with one final thought. The people who tend to think that the price is too high for pushing yourself, seem to be under the impression that there is no price or cost to bear doing nothing and playing it safe. I believe that there is a price. A steep price in fact. A life of wondering what if? Wondering what would have happened if you tried. A life filled with would’ve and could’ve.

I am not willing to pay that price. As OneRepublic says “Yeah, with every broken bone (literally in this case.) I swear I lived”.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Power of Kindness Defeats Failure on a NJ Run

I was trudging along shuffling my feet in an exceedingly slow run. My running partner Anthony was off in the distance, and I kept my eyes locked on his green vest. Sometimes he was just a small faraway glimmer in the darkness as it was the wee hours of the night. What I needed was rest and time to sleep but the one thing we did not have was time. We were way behind on our schedule of running the length of New Jersey from the Southern point of the Cape May Lighthouse to the High Point Monument.

There were three of us planning to do this epic run which Anthony and I had completed in the reverse direction two years earlier. Yet on the first day there were some signs that this trek might be more difficult than the first. Dave, the third runner, had a work emergency the night before we ran and was having difficulty keeping up with the pace we needed to maintain in order to finish by Sunday. He languished for a few hours trying to stay with it but in the end in the early evening he pulled out and just decided to help my wife crew us. Something that he was amazingly good at.

Anthony and I maintained a brisk pace after that to make up for lost time, but we arrived at our rest stop, a friend’s house exhausted about five hours behind schedule. We had also run for twenty-four hours straight and been awake for over twenty-five hours.  

We started the next day great, but we had started so much later than we had anticipated so that by the time we got to the early evening we were still well behind. Now I was the one who was struggling. I could feel that I needed to sleep but our designated rest area was miles away and it looked like we would not arrive there till the sun was coming up. Anthony and Dave were worried about me. While doing math after running over 100 miles with almost no sleep is near impossible for me. I was aware enough to know that we could not finish until sometime that Monday.

Then Dave and Anthony suggested let’s finish as a relay. Each of us doing a leg. I was not thrilled with the idea because it felt like a failure to me of not covering every mile, but I had no choice but to agree. I then tried to sleep in the back of the car with some modicum of success. Anthony, who was by far the strongest runner went on to the next designated stop. He was hopeful that he could complete the run. We had decided to go “lean and mean” no major crew no long pit stops. Dave and I, taking turns with Anthony and driving to the next stop. At the moment we had two vehicles with Sebastion who worked with Dave driving his pickup and carrying half the gear.

I was still dejected about my performance when we got a call and it was Anthony. He was in really bad shape at the next stop. We got him in the car to warm up because he was very cold. The temperature had dropped, and he was tired. I felt that it was all over at that moment. I even called my wife Patty, and said I am not sure if we will make it. Dave then took the next leg just before sunrise. I had scouted the route that he would be on and was glad that the sun would come up because it was a beautiful area on country dirt roads with horse farms.

I drove to the next stop, which was the ShopRite in Chester as did Sebastion. He was going to empty his truck and we would reload our Honda CRV. It was bleak. We had all the gear strewn in the parking lot and began repacking the car. I was mentally defeated, and Anthony’s body was physically beaten. The thought of going on because I had the next leg seemed farfetched. I had also posted that we had switched to a relay format so that people did not feel obligated to cheer us on or run with us.

I was trying to come to grips with my failure in the parking lot. I knew that there was no way I could continue. My spirit was just a warm ember. Then something miraculous happened. This run was dubbed the New Jersey Kindness Run espousing the power of kindness. Yet I, the most vocal proponent of its power would be surprised by its strength.

It started innocently enough Patty and my niece Anna arrived with some food and support. Then my brother Greg showed up. Then my friend Dan arrived soon after because he wanted to run his first ultra-marathon. He was excited to run the next leg. Then to my surprise Rose and Rob arrived. I had known Rose for years through work and had always liked the two of them. Nicole who was a friend of Anthony shows up, and she is over eight months pregnant. They were all excited about our accomplishment so far. While I was down on our achievement, they were the opposite.

Dan was excited to begin his ultra journey. Then Rob said he was running as well. My wife looked at me and she was the one I had confessed my failure too. Then she said “You have no choice but to run.” I smiled because I knew that she was right. Besides that their positivity and kindness had not only touched my heart but lifted my spirits. I ran nine miles with Rob and Dan and it was great. We were not doing a blistering pace but we were chatting and having fun.

As we came into the next stop which was a large QuickChek I saw the cars in the back and they were cheering for us. I was happy but then tears welled up in my eyes when I saw my daughter there cheering me on with a sign that said “That’s my dad!” She and her boyfriend had driven in from Connecticut to cheer us on. Then my cousin showed up and my sister and brother-in-law. Followed by Bethany, a former school board member I had worked with. It was a party! We had chairs opened up the back of the cars opened it looked like a tailgate party. In fact, one guy driving by rolled his window down and asked “Where’s the firepit?”

More people joined as we traveled from one leg to the next. My mood was completely shifted. I was happy and energized. When I ran my next leg with my other brother Gerald as well as Dan. I was not trudging I was running with joy. Anthony even commented to me about how great it was to see me laugh and smile. Even when I glanced at my phone, I could see the positive messages appearing on my feed. It was so uplifting.

In the wee hours I was at my darkest and lowest point. I was not sure I could go on. Yet the support and kindness of my friends and family had lifted me up out of that funk. I am pretty sure I would not have finished if it was just the three of us doing it. That is the power of kindness. It lifts up individuals when they need it the most.

I think that is a very important lesson. You do not need to run an ultra-marathon to hit a low point. It happens in life. We need others to show us kindness and support.

Someone said to me after we had finished our running journey. You must be “basking in your achievement.” “No” I said. “I am basking in the support, love and kindness that my family and friends showed me.”  If I have a great achievement in life, it is to have so many kind and supportive family and friends in my life.  Maybe that is the key to great individual achievement. Realizing that it is not an individual effort and that you received kindness along the way.