Article in Woodburn Paper

Click here to read the article about the scholarship recipient that was recently in the Woodburn Independent.

I'm Not Doing That Again

“I’m not doing that again.”  We have all said this.  In some cases it is the guy finally breaking up with the train-wreck of a girlfriend who everyone tried to warn him about.  In other cases it is the addict finally getting sober after relapsing again… after getting sober… after relapsing, again.  Perhaps it is the alpinist  who has a hair-raising open bivy, in a storm, without adequate clothing or food or shelter yet goes back into the mountains.  But we often do.  Memories fade.  The immediacy is lost, and the potency of what was felt in the moment has been diluted to, “It wasn’t that bad.”

After my ultra-marathon last month (heck, in the middle of it), I swore up and down that I would not put my mind and body through the torture a third time.  Depleted of energy, dehydrated, blistered, and broken is a great state to reinforce the necessity of quitting these stupid ultra-marathons and the scholarship that is the albatross around my neck.  But only two weeks later the memory has started to fade.

During this time since the 28^th of April, I have had conversations with many of my students about the run, the scholarship, and the purpose.  Again and again I find myself talking about the fact that the chosen student is not the smartest or the most financially needy.  She is the toughest, most stubborn individual with the greatest drive and vision for herself.  My two recipients have been kids who refuse to say, “I quit.”  The whole purpose for running 50 miles is to demonstrate this value: stuff worth getting is hard to get; don’t quit even when it hurts or cuts you down or seems impossible.  Presumably I am supposed to live this value of dogged perseverance through terrible odds.  Through that lens it seems kind of weak that I have considered quitting because it was “too hard”. In retrospect I also see some very significant problems with how I prepared.  Clearly I had some setbacks including a sinus infection and a sprained ankle.  However, I recognize that I went into the preparation feeling like I could rely more on my own experience than I should have.  Knowing what to expect is helpful.  Adequate preparation is still necessary.  

Like a junkie, I find myself already missing the tortured high of running those long distances.  They are both meditative and elegant in their simplicity.  There is an erosion of the self that occurs; at the end, the carapace that conceals the tender self beneath has been dissolved through hours of sweat and effort.  I am left with only the truth and a self is vulnerable and raw.  Perhaps this is why I found the 50 miles so painful last week.  I was forced to come to grips with what I really wanted from the endeavor.  Was it about time (faster than last year), competition (placing higher than my friends with whom I had trained), or the scholarship (money raised from simply covering the distance)? I find myself entertaining the notion that I will do it again next year.  It matters so much to the winner of the scholarship, and it has been so deeply revealing about who I am.  I would presume that as the summer passes, I will find that “I am not doing that again” will fade into something else: a receptiveness of the idea that the scholarship and its incumbent 50 miles should continue.  Unlike the junkie, the boyfriend, or the alpinist, running the 50 miles does not threaten my well being (despite what people may think).  It is true that I lose my toenails, but I risk little physically.  I was left psychologically wreaked, not corporeally damaged.  Endurance is in the mind not the legs or lungs, and perhaps this is where I should start my training next year.