Back to basics for 2022

Another year has passed, and everyone is thinking about how to become a better and more productive person, a stronger and more successful athlete…. I’ve never liked this type of striving because it invariably leads to unhealthy patterns. Instead, I think this is a great time to sit down and think about why we do what we do.

It is becoming easier with each day to forget the sound of running water or a breeze in dry branches, the feeling of wet moss against your skin, or the sound of a stray cicada years out of sync. Sometimes while out running, I find myself thinking how I’ll take a photo for social media (or even how I’ll caption it), or fumbling with the Go Pro as I patter past nesting songbirds in the cops by the gurgling stream near my house. I get sucked into the Instagram vortex longer than I’m willing to admit, and while I learn and am inspired from time to time, more and more I feel its insidious side effects, where external factors are encroaching on the very essence of running. As a coach and athlete, I sense an ever growing performative and comparative layer that weighs quite heavily on the sport and its participants, especially as it experiences huge growth.

When it comes to the sport of trail and ultra running, I’m your standard sports fan. I idolize legends and cheer on the younger generation. I listen to podcasts and read articles and books in several languages, and (as a coach and student of the sport) I nerd out on the science and the psychology of sport. All this to say, I’m all in here. Yet still, I am not at ease.

The events, the new gear, the tasty bars, the live broadcasts, the emotional films, and the magic bullets for “successful” training… they’re fun and exciting - they really are. But they can also mislead us in answering the question of why we run.

It’s all around us. (And no, I am not immune.) We idolize brands over people, brand culture over the history of running and mountain pursuits. Instagram and Strava are ubiquitous tools of comparison. We broadcast our Strava metrics for the world to see. We set films of ourselves to background music and post them to public audiences, as if we were movie stars. We tag ourselves with brands as if we were pros, even if all we got was a few pairs of shoes and a couple of T-shirts, or the “ambassador’s discount code” (a ruse for us to consume more product). With each mid-run selfie, we zoom in further and further until it’s just us in the viewfinder. There is a gaping personal and collective void, and we are filling it with products, self-branding, and damaging comparison.

When I catch myself thinking about social media while running, I ask myself kindly: why are you running? For me, running should be joy. The joy of community, learning, movement, exploration (of all sorts), excitement, and challenge. Instead of zooming in, running and outdoor play has the power to zoom us so far out that we appreciate both our privilege and our insignificance. My point here is not to disparage anyone. On the one hand the gear is enabling, the events and people sometimes inspiring - I’m the first to admit that. On the other hand we’re often missing the point. 

I listened to Rich Roll’s interview with Tommy Rivers Puzey a few days ago. (If you don’t know who Tommy Rivs is, look him up!!) One of the things he said, and I’m paraphrasing here, was “Imagine you got to the end [of your life], and all you had to say for yourself was ‘I ran these splits’ or ‘I ran this many miles’… I mean running itself is meaningless.” I would go one step further and say imagine if we got to the end and we didn’t even remember the running journey, but only the photos and the films and the gear and the brands and the discount codes.

Running is both meaningless, and the most profound thing some of us will ever do. But we aren’t our PBs or our podiums, our failures or our gear; we’re not the places we’ve traveled, or the kudos we’ve received. That is a barren road.

So what am I even saying? What I’m saying is, in this time of new beginnings, of promises that are almost invariably broken, instead of setting arbitrary performance goals for yourself, try taking your watch off, leaving your phone at home and going out for a run (or ski or bike), just for the love of it!! I know I’m going to!