Lapped By the Sun:
By John Prohira
Serendipity
Serendipity - an aptitude for making desirable discoveries by accident. Horace Walpole first used the term serendipity in a letter to a friend during the 18th century. Walpole compared the fairy tale adventures of The Three Princes of Serendip, who were always accidentally making discoveries of things they were not looking for, to some of his own findings. Velcro, penicillin, Teflon and X rays all have serendipitous roots. While chasing a Boston Marathon qualifying time I inadvertently recognized that I was enjoying my long training runs much more than the race itself. I began to wonder what lay beyond those 26.2 miles. I wasn't planning on becoming an endurance runner. I'd never considered the value in being lapped by the sun while running a race. I never imagined witnessing two dawns during one run. Not until serendipity opened my eyes.
Ten years ago I put on running shoes and hit the roads. I stopped smoking and seemed to be breathing easier, eating and sleeping better. And I was nurturing a closer relationship with my physician as he attended to my running "growing pains." These things did not surprise me. Most everything else that followed did.
I always viewed running as a solitary pursuit and that appealed to me. You know, The Loneliness of The Long Distance Runner. While participating in local races I began to appreciate the sense of camaraderie that came with that shared experience. I liked that sense of belonging even though I'd always subscribed to the Groucho Marx maxim, " I never wanted to belong of any organization that would have someone like me as a member." Surprisingly I appreciated my changed attitude. Unsought rewards had begun.
While logging the miles in preparation for long races I became aware of the cycles of ups and downs that accompanied distance training and running. I caught glimpses of what I now consider the magic that beckons me again and again back to the ultra. The time invested in an ultramarathon allowed for a diverse range of experience, emotion and feeling. More importantly I was offered the opportunity to process lessons presented. Time to think. I was being introduced to the man I was and I started to like him. I began not being afraid to be alone inside my own head. I was learning that I liked my mind on ultrarunning, where thoughts are simple and focused and filled with a presence of life. I was smitten with the sense of resurrection that comes while ultrarunning, of being shown that pain and effort are relative and that situations and point of view wax and wane. I was shown that discouragement need not be a permanent state of mind. I found I could go quickly from the pit of despair to feeling strong, capable and totally up to the challenge at hand. I discovered this through the ache in my lungs and the burning in my legs, and the voice inside me yelling, "CAN'T." I've learned not to listen too intently to negatives like that, instead to continue until what I need to hear comes, that little voice that whispers, "can." And I am so enamored with the sound of that whisper, "can." Without searching I learned that the desire to quit comes but once. It is a coward who once beaten does not return.
I've heard ultrarunning likened to chasing the sublime bordering on the asinine. Pursuing that intangible reward while in the mountains and running into the dawn surrounded by like-minded souls thrills me. Running on trail was where I gained a measure of spirituality. The fatigue and effort accompanying the run gives my brain pause and allows the beauty of my surroundings to sink in. I notice things. Like watching morning's fog lift from a sleeping valley while atop a mountain, seeing the world brighten as dawn approaches or being slowly immersed in the darkness of night as the sun sets. Night sounds of the forest, the glow of head lamps in the distance and the banter and rhythmic breathing of my companions reassure me that all is as it is supposed to be. This comforts me. These things suggest that what I am doing is meaningful. Serendipitously I see testament and proof positive of the workings of a Higher Power.
I've spent much of my life avoiding pain and discomfort. It's not that I now seek the pain that accompanies endurance running for pain's sake I just accept it for what it is. It's a measure of effort and running has helped me understand that every reward has its associated cost. I know it's going to be a worthy and meaningful run when something that used to frighten me happens; it's a phenomenon that is uncomfortable yet I look forward to it. During an ultramarathon my ego's protective shell begins to crack. Distance and fatigue start to humble lofty goals which are replaced with gentler aspirations. I compare it to having the skin peeled off my body in thin layers at a time. As energy begins to wane and my feet start to hurt my senses grow keener. It's like all my sensory receptors are becoming exposed. Like I'm wearing my nerves as a thin veneer. Emotion lay just below the surface, close to the world surrounding me, ready to receive messages that mean something important. It is definitely an altered state and at times a sappy and sentimental one. Life seems so big at that moment. I feel part of it and I like it in spite of labored breath, the cyclical occurrence of nausea and tired legs. And with this changed view of the world again comes the certainty that what I am doing is important. Important if only for myself but important nonetheless.
When I began ultrarunning it was an attempt to place an individual stamp upon myself. Long distance running was what would define me as unique. The greatest unasked for gift from the ultra comes when looking into the eyes of my fellow runner crossing the finish line. It almost knocks me off my feet because it's then that I know that I am not unusual. I am them. They are me. I am connected to, not apart and not so unique. I like that! And this realization goes deeper. This arena of seemingly obscene distance allows me to see my connection to others not just as a runner of long distances, but as a connected part of humanity, with all the same strengths and frailties that everyone has. Ultrarunning is just analogy for real life. Looking into the eyes of those completing runs of 50 and 100 miles allowed me to recognize the immense capability of man. Whether on the trail or in the larger world, I see that we are all capable of accomplishing the extraordinary. We accomplish wonderful things on a daily basis. At times struggling to do so but still achieving. Many people inherently know this stuff; I had to go into the mountains and the trails to realize it. But that doesn't matter. My goal is to keep the gift of this insight. What draws me back to these distances is the emptying of myself that is required in order to finish what is begun. I empty all that is John out and then have the opportunity to refill it with better stuff. It doesn't happen perfectly, most of the old stuff, old behaviors and attitudes come rushing back in ASAP, but as an unexpected gift of God's grace maybe only 99% comes back, not all the pettiness, jealousies and resentments fill back in. The other 1% is filled with good stuff, the simple stuff, the kind stuff, stuff I want to be made of.
I've been told to examine what I believe, for I am or will become what I believe. I've been serendipitously led to believe finer things about life, others and myself. Much has been shown and offered me out beyond the marathon distance. Not what I bargained for but I'm very grateful for those accidental discoveries.
Happy Trails,
John