Jun 12, 2018
How Running in Circles Can Be an Uplifting Experience…
Imagine running 215 one-mile loops (in the rain, mostly) over 72 hours. The same course, the same trees, the same rocks… the same scene.
Over and over and over again…
How about covering 547 of the loops over a 144 hour period (six days for those of you who can’t do the math)?
If those sound a bit too much, how about as many as you can pack in over 12 hours? Or ‘just’ 31 of them as a 50k ultramarathon? Or the paltry 26 with a few extra yards to make the marathon?
Sound exciting, expanding and life-transforming?
Or does it sound like the runner’s version of hell (or at least purgatory as you wait for it to end)?
When we hear about someone ‘running in circles’ we may have the image of a hamster on a wheel come to mind: equating to a tremendous amount of energy being invested in something that yields next to nothing. It can also equate to someone not having anything better to do so why not keep busy regardless if it leads nowhere.
It can certainly involve thoughts of monotony, death-by-repetition or outright boredom.
All of these are completely understandable because we’re creatures who crave novelty — especially those of us who are runners who love to explore the open road, who want to see the world anew, treading on new ground and seeing new sights.
Anything that constrains, pens us in if you will, is anathemic to the running spirit that can only be when it is free, right?
Perhaps. But perhaps not.
About three years ago I heard of an event called “3 Days at the Fair” (3DATF) in upstate New Jersey from some running friends of mine so I decided to check it out. As I soon discovered it was, indeed, an event that allowed runners to test their physical abilities over a 72 hour period, but one that involved looping along the same 1-mile course… No way, I thought. I’d rather shoot myself and die a quick death than kill myself slowly like that.
I did see, though, that there were different options available so one would not need to subject themselves to the mental (or physical) torture of 3 days-worth of circling: a 48 hour option, a 24 hour option, a 12 hour option, and many more. Since I’d already conquered my first 100-mile trail run a few years earlier I thought anything less than that would be backsliding so I settled on the 48 hour option.
It couldn’t be THAT bad, right? Like a bad weekend trip it’d be over with soon enough? So I signed up, not really knowing what I was doing…
Covering 140ish miles over the allotted time in that event was a success in its own right (especially because I had profound cellulitis of both feet due to running in soaking wet shoes for 11 hours as the rain pelted down and the temperatures got unseasonable cold one night). I walked away (well, limped away) with a 3rd place trophy (a wickedly cool stained-glass rooster!), but what I won that was even more valuable was the new insight of how transformative it was to have many of the ‘course aspects’ reduced. What do I mean?
Running a closed-circuit course provided:
· A completely ‘you can’t get lost’ route: literally, you can’t get lost because the trail leads directly back to the start… every mile (think NASCAR: make a left turn… make a left turn… make another left turn…)
· A means where you don’t need to carry ANY provisions with you: water, electrolytes, FOOD, Aquaphor or Chapstick, bandages, fresh socks or shoes, etc.; all you need is your body and a bit of clothing
· Direct access to HOT food as there is a staffed kitchen 24 hours a day during the event and they’re all too happy to give you everything from coffee to hamburgers to chicken broth to potato chips to eggs to rice and more
· Direct access to warm showers… and toilets… in a real building (not a shanty or a camping-curtain with a garden hose option)
· A huge computer screen that informed you at the end of each lap exactly what runners like to know: how long did the last mile take me, how am I ranked real-time compared to the field, how long have I been running, what is my overall average pace, etc.
· A never-ending supply of supporters who seem to give you the right type and amount of encouragement to keep going when you don’t necessarily feel like going any further
An additional perk that I hadn’t anticipated, indeed I’d anticipated the exact opposite, was that in by reducing certain parts of a challenge, and rather important ones at that, the focus can then be placed on OTHER parts of the challenge that were either unknown or underappreciated.
Enter in the additional 24 hours… that turned into SO much more
My newfound insight didn’t leave my mind or heart after the cellulitis left my feet and I returned to my normal routines. Well, that’s not quite accurate because my normal routines didn’t exist after I returned because my world was rocked by a divorce (not of my choosing but one precipitated by a lot of less-than-nice things I’d not known about), a massive dislocation from the east coast back to my roots in Wyoming, and an eventual new life after more soul-searching.
My mind kept reminiscing on how GREAT the experience was, though, and how I might use my understanding to help me go not just further but to enjoy the next experience even more.
Stepping up the game
The following year 3DATF’s organizers stepped up their game by allowing runners to step up their challenge: a 144 hour (6 day) option was held in addition to their namesake 3 day and shorter options. I couldn’t make it back for the reasons I mentioned, but I didn’t lose my desire to reconnect when I could.
That option came late last year when I was gifted with a new life (and a MUCH stronger and more supportive relationship) that would allow me to return… but this time stretching myself a tad-bit more. I’d not jump into the massive 144 hour option but I would take on the extended-weekend warrior 72 hour one.
I’ll chat training techniques later (focusing on how to mentally and physically train your resilience for an ‘ultra’ of any magnitude — sometimes a 5k IS an ultra and for many people…) but wanted to mention just a few insights I gained during the extended version.
Individualization is key YET you must have a stragegy!
There were as many people running the event as there were body types, ages, running styles, food preferences, the propensity to talk or sing or keep quiet, outfits, gadgets, and ‘causes’ (personal as well as charitable). Most importantly, there was no ONE ‘best’ approach for the people who were only on the course for personal reasons. Sure there were the few who were ‘competing’ with the field, but they were actually very few in number; the vast majority were out there to simply be moving their bodies as they moved their spirits.
I spoke with many of my fellow runners and each had at least a general strategy (NONE of them said they were just winging it!) if not an extremely detailed one beyond what I had. Listening to them describe their reasons for their strategies didn’t make me question mine — they helped me appreciate that my own planning was not obsessive but a vital part of planning!
My strategy: Taking the ‘fifth approach’
I happened to pick an overall pace that was expected to be 10% slower after each 14 hour ‘block’ of time — 1/5th of 72 hours is a little over 14 hours and I divide every ultra I do into 5 separate-but-related events/segments to do (something I call the “fifths approach”). I calculated an overall pace that would allow me to finish 200 miles (my goal) within the allotted time while allowing me to take blocks of rest if I needed.
For example, 200 miles divided by 5 segments meant that I’d only need to go 40 miles during each 14.4 hours: NOT fast by any standard. Because I’d be slowing 10% each segment that meant I’d need to do MORE miles early on because I’d not be able to do ‘enough’ at the end if I slow too much. Doing the math meant I’d need to do 48, 44, 40, 36 and 32 miles each segment (adding up to my goal of 200). If I did them without stopping to rest my pace would vary from the quickest at the start of a paltry 3 1/3 miles per hour (or a little over 18 minutes per mile!) at the start to the slowest of 2.22 miles per hour (27 ½ minutes per mile) at the end.
I knew I’d want to shower, rest, eat, or do other things besides ‘running’ — equating to a ‘zero miles per hour’ pace . This brings up another point: I’d rather run a more comfortable and efficient pace that was much faster with complete rest periods in-between than run continuously.
My strategy, therefore, was to move more quickly for, say, 10 hours and then take up to 4 hours ‘rest’, repeating what I did but at a more leisurely pace the next segment that happened to be less required miles anyway.
This strategy paid off in spades because I’ve never felt as in control and encouraged as I was from the starting line to the 215 miles I turned in. Importantly, I felt great enough during the event to run a 9:15 mile my 100th one and I crossed the 200 mark 9 hours ahead of schedule. The extra 15 miles I went to get me to my final distance were all done simply to keep enjoying the experience instead of watching others continue. How could I not be a part of the action especially when other runners — like Johnny Hällneby from Sweden who was setting the record the smashing his country’s old record, 547 miles, or Annabel Hepworth from Australia who racked up 408 miles to win the women’s field, or Charlie Upshall from Canada who is as much as a gentleman and peaceful warrior at 73 years old who crossed the line at the end with 311 miles crushing the Canadian national record for his age group — were still on the course? So many more stories of triumph over tragedy that kept my spirit flying which kept my feet moving.
Being a bit of a science geek I’ve plotted my progress. It’s an energizing thing to see that I was able to keep overall average segment paces almost exactly as I wanted, was able to take plenty of rest breaks (and even a few extra), and keep myself both upright and upbeat over the long haul. OH, and I was also able to help three other runners to remain positive and reach their own goals as I set my own aside and became their temporary ‘running coach’.
While I didn’t walk/limp away with a 3rd place trophy this year (I finished 4th) it wasn’t because of my failing — the top 3 finishers were amazing athletes and much more experienced ultrarunners. Easily surpassing my own goal in such a positive way gave me the freedom to observe their own progress and grace — and cheer them on — reveling in their success instead of feeling ‘beaten’.
If it isn’t blindingly obvious, my current attitude about ‘running in circles’ is anything but negative. For sure, I will forever embrace any opportunity to do it again…and again, and again, and again, just like the loops in Augusta, New Jersey.
One final thought involves the impact our own circles had on the ever-widening circles of people who were both physically at the event and those supporting us from afar.
My own ‘local pit crew’ this year were my mother and father, both in their mid-70s, who had never attended such an event let alone watched their 52-year-old ‘baby boy’ participate in one. We rented an RV for them to be comfortable in (as well as to give me an extra luxurious space to take breaks in) but the most comforting experience they mentioned to me afterwards was seeing me smile each lap I passed them or stopped to take a drink (dark chocolate almond milk, slushy from being in the freezer, was my elixir of life, let me tell you…) or catch some extra food. Each joined me for at least one mile as I walked to recover, allowing them to not just ‘see’ my running world, but to experience the fellowship that can happen only in this type of venue. They also befriended multiple runners, at one point making fresh microwave popcorn for another runner who I now consider, as they do, an adopted family member. Their enjoyment of the event has now been spread to their network of family and friends back in Wyoming (my home state and their home), positively impacting countless others along the way.
My ‘global pit crew’ included my British fiancée, who kept in close contact with my parents, who then spread the news real-time to my network of people in at least 30 countries that I know off the top of my head, each cheering me on in their own way; more importantly, they were sensing what was possible for them, in their own way, as they watched what was possible for me while it unfolded.
Circles of progress, courage and hope, like ripples of love across space and time.
Now I ask you: If you feel you’re ready for something like this or not, can you appreciate now how running in circles can be an amazing experience? How might your circling create positive ripples in your world?
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