Ultrarunning

Ultrarunning: 

largely, and at this point in my life, I feel that I'm retired from ultrarunning, a sport I loved and trained for passionately for well over a decade. It's time has past for me, although I never rule out the possibility of its pursuit again, but for now, the fire needed to train for distance, the desire to race with and against others, just isn't there. I'm okay with it, my life has always been in cycles of interest, each pursued with an intense, singular passion. My love of fitness, roaming through nature, and even distance, remains the same, and this is why I don't discount the possibility that I'll tow the starting line once more - yet it's not a thought I really entertain right now, the idea isn't foremost in my mind at all. Really, I simply feel a chapter's closed, for many reasons, some I'm not sure I will understand - I'm moving on. 

for me, my love for ultrarunning was born from sorrow, the loss my mother through stages of Alzheimer's and then a sudden, unexpected death, my marriage ending as a lingering wound, such a constant point of suffering with no sure avenue of escape, and so much more too, it was the literal dark night of both mind and soul. And distance running saved me, first the long hours spent on the trails, simply being deep in the woods of my own pain and joined by the welcoming presence of trees and streams, sighting deer in a quick run of their own, and for a length of time feeling an ease of pressure, a true sense that I belonged and was at home in nature. The sport of ultrarunning was different though, it still offered me the welcoming grace of nature, but also a community, liked minded people who found their own way here through whatever stories life had offered. 

we all belonged here, welcomed, equal in our stories. 

mostly this hasn't changed, I have lifelong friends gained from the sport of ultrarunning, the community still welcomes, and so many reached out with love and concern with the loss of my father, soon to be a year gone, and his death still felt sharply. Because of the miles we've shared, due to the great distances we've covered, often together, but mostly alone, and I think it's that aspect that's become our common bond - we've all traveled the dark trails of mind and body, navigated our discomforts, faced the deep loneliness of our travels, and have come to the other side, if maybe only for a temporary stay. We've all suffered our aloneness, and this is what bonds us. 

and it doesn't matter if I race again. 

the bond is always there now. 

the age of Covid has changed for me, and for many others too, perhaps for most of us and we've yet to realize the depth of these changes. As well, my father's death has given me cause to withdraw even further, embracing an ever present sense of loneliness and spending long hours in the quiet nature of my mind, still a true wilderness to me even now, spacious, and welcoming as any forest trail. It seems ultrarunning remains my essence, always the love roaming great distances, even if now they mostly unfold through my mind, through hours of quiet meditation, exploring an ever growing length of inner stillness. This is where I find myself now, uncertain for how long, but equally determined to know this distance. 

perhaps at heart and by my very nature...

I'll always remain an ultrarunner. 

~

Peace, Eric