Competition

As a competitive ultrarunner who truly loves being in the mountains, finding the balance between training and enjoyment has always been present in my mind. On one hand, its hard to beat a long day exploring beautiful mountains with no pressure to maintain a certain pace, stay on a certain trail, or consider what people on Strava might think. However, that type of attitude and exercise aren't necessarily the best for reaching my fitness potential. Its often more beneficial to mix in flatter (less scenic) faster runs, and even when I get the chance to do longer mountain runs there is a specific route picked out that mimics race terrain. I've found a few keys to managing this balance, although I'm also open to suggestions about how to improve because this is still occasionally a struggle.

Why compete? This is the first question to tackle. Competition, initially, may seem ego-centric and selfish. And in many ways it is. That's part of why I struggle to justify doing it. I race in part to motivate myself to get into as good of shape as possible, to have a dedicated event at which I can push my body and mind to their limits. I believe that this process of pushing deep into discomfort and coming out the other side with realizations about life that can only be found in dark, uncomfortable places makes me a happier, more complete, thankful person and is therefore a good thing. However, I'd be lying if I said that I didn't also compete to see how I stack up against others and try to prove myself to the world. I wish I didn't care about that, but for now, winning is fun. Standing on a podium or having everyone tell me that I killed it feels good. So while I'm physically able and until I decide that stoking that ego a bit every once in awhile is unacceptable, I'll continue to race. But learning the best style of racing for myself has been a learning process.

The most important way that I've been able to combine my love of mountains with training for competitive races is to sign up for races that are on types of terrain that I will enjoy spending a lot of time on. For example, rather than signing up for a smoother, flatter, faster race I'll generally focus my energy on long, technical, hilly races where the average pace will be slower. This sets me up to plan adventures in cool places that will also prepare me for the demands of race day.

Having a schedule that dedicates certain days to mundane training and others to more exciting excursions keeps each week exciting. On days where I tend to have more work meetings or other commitments I like to get in easier runs or do a recovery jog with my partner. I group my commitments together as much as possible so that on other days I can have completely free mornings for a longer run.

Finally, making an effort to appreciate the simple act of running makes even the more mundane runs something to look forward to. I have prioritized living in a location with great trail access and beautiful mountain scenery, so even my most simple runs can still be easily appreciated. The ability and privilege to run are things that we often take for granted until we are injured or see others who don't have the same opportunities in life. When I am thankful for the pure act of running, it doesn't matter whether I'm exploring new mountain ridgelines or putting in an interval workout around the neighborhood. I can both compete and find joy in running, regardless of the competitive results.

Expanded to life as a whole rather than just the niche sport of ultrarunning, the same lessons apply. Many passions may be selfish, but if they bring you joy they are not truly selfish, because if you are happy you can share happiness with others and lift them up as well. The key is to focus on the love of the activity and gratitude for the ability to perform it.