Anywhere But Here — Suffering, Ultrarunning & Life.
2:30AM. I woke up as if it was a more socially acceptable hour to wake. Fresh, awake and excited to go and run. Except, I realised it was 2:30am. Confused. After doing some mental calculations, I figured, even if I get up now, drive to where I’m running, I’ll still have an hour till sunrise.
Often the allure of waking before the sun is, of course, the cheeky invitation to watch the sky do that dancing it does. But early September, 2:30am is a little to early. Even for my standards.
So I did that thing you do, lie there, a little longer. Refraining from checking the time, just observing thoughts, the passing movement of existence, the dark abyss of the back of the eyeballs. All that good stuff. I fell into some sort of dream, and woke up, with the same feeling, this time with an added “Please be time to get up!”. 4:10AM. Ok, that’ll do. Sunrise stalking it will be.
I type that with slight resistance, aware I’d rather not come across as a patronising, annoying, positive bundle of ZEST for life. You know the American self-help style where you can’t stop shouting YES when you wake up because you just can’t wait to take on the DAY. That’s not quite me. I’d say I have zest, but it’s more I suffer from that thing known as — once I’m awake, I’m awake and lying there is painful. I also fail at socialising, mostly, because I can’t stay awake past 10pm. 10pm is very late. 9pm perfect, 8:30pm, a treat.
And also, when you know you’re about to go and run 20 miles in the beautiful mountainous land of God’s, yeah — you SHOUT YES UPON WAKING.
6:30am, destination — destinated (now a word), car parked, sun on the rising behind some dense overlayed clouds and far too many people. I always forget that other people exist and feel mild (intense) internal angst when other humans are also walking the part of the earth that I want to run on. Especially at 6:30am. Maybe everyone today just had that zest.
Turns out not. I’m not sure why, but gently running past people who are looking on the verge of death as they hike up a hill, never seems to invite a hello back. Ignored is often the response. Which typing this out I can see I take this personally, which is hilarious, because it’s just occurred to me that perhaps they’re out of breath.
But you know, still. Even worse, is running downhill, my favourite moment, at the summit, a whole long stretch of flying over loose-rock, scree, jagged, uneven terrain whilst feeling gravity try to pummel you to it’s core, ahead of you. 5% of the time, this invites a “wow, keep going!” from walkers, ok, maybe 2%, 1.5%.
As the rocks I’ve accidentally kicked hurtle towards people’s skulls, the noise akin to a heavy, angry, uncontrolled buffalo approaching imminently, and the 10 second urgent warning of “morning, please may I squeeze past?”, and if you don’t move, I will probably accidentally run you over because I’m going too fast to stop myself because I have very little skill but enjoy the thrill — yeah, this never invites a friendly hello either.
In 4 weeks time, I’m running 110k, 68.2 miles, to be precise. There’s 3999m of elevation, apparently not 4000m. It’s in the Lake District, and the next 2 weeks my intention is to get in some bigger volume, especially on the ups and the downs, to prepare my quads, body and soul for a good old exploration of ouchy. Before I taper down into a carb bursting legend.
But anyway, I’m not really here to discuss the mundane detail of running or worse, carbohydrates.
But, running is weird.
It can be used as something to take you to many places other than here. Anywhere, but Here. That’s how I used to use it, anyway.
Distraction, ‘headspace’, thinking time. Let my legs do the pedalling while I enjoy some of the greatest hits of my brain, which subsequently come with the worst situations and scenarios and thoughts.
I don’t run to escape reality, anymore.
The last 3 months, for me, have been somewhat of a rollercoaster of an experience.
To sum it up, concisely —
I had firmly decided that I was going to throw in the towel on my business, collect eggs for a living, refrain from writing, creating, being of service to others, live in a tent, forget about humans and cycle around the world.
The “stuff” of life had me wrapped around it’s innocent yet aggressively sticky hand. Yes, I just used the word aggressively, sticky, and hand in one sentence. Sorry.
But the realisation of the reality I was living, and have always lived, was becoming painfully unbearable, and so the easiest way to object, at least in my brain — is to burn everything down. Obviously.
Living anywhere, but Here.
Now, when I say the realisation of the reality I was living, I’m not referring to anything likely worthy of writing about, at least externally.
You know, I’ve always been relatively mindful about my behaviours, actions and intentions, doing my best to ensure they align, because if not — life doesn’t feel smooth. I don’t like friction. I’m not good at “just getting on with it”, even if it’s the accepted norm of our culture, society, or whatever. If something feels off, it’s off, regardless of whether it should, or it shouldn’t.
The last 3 months I’ve not been in some deep, dark abyss. I’ve not been shoving ecstasy up my bum every Tuesday (please don’t imagine that), nor have I developed a midlife crisis wine dependence-definitely-not-addiction. There’s just been this nagging feeling, clawing, gnawing away at me of -
This just isn’t it.
A slight unease, discontentment, that soon bred into the tornado of the mind’s machine, questioning everything ever, about existence.
Entire, utter frustration and anger at the way we live. This perpetual exhaustion we, mostly all, experience. The unrecognised driving force of all of society being — economic growth, which in turn, creates an outward directed experience of forever chasing more, faster, better, sooner.
This, I feel on a very personal level, entirely feeds into our way of being, with everything.
How you do one thing, is how you do everything, and for me there is so much truth in that.
The rushed, urgent nature we all exist in. Doing everything as fast as we can, so we can finally relax later. It’s the whole, you can finally rest when you’re retired. But oops, now you’re dead. This urgent, incessant drive to constantly do things faster, with that tightness in your chest and throat that there’s still more to do.
The fact that none of us are actually Here.
The fact that we’re all running around like frantic rabbits, unaware of why we’re doing anything, but driven by this feeling of “not enough”. Unable to look each other in the eyes. Unable to have an undistracted conversation without being pulled into the urgency of our cuboid ketamine devices we have on us at all times; phones.
The fact that almost every client I speak with, is absolutely exhausted. Has no where near enough time to just breathe, watch the sky, recognise the beautiful existence we actually have.
The fact that the trajectory of life is that you just become stressed and die. But hey, you’ll have momentary experiences of happiness.
Happiness isn’t a goal. If it is, you’ll fail every time, as it slips through your fingers when the external world shifts away from your mind’s ideal.
This, utterly ridiculous sense of WHAT ARE WE ALL DOING.
Has mainly been a projection of — What am I doing?
Our external world for sure, influences us on many levels, more than which we’re likely aware of.
But seeking something better, more, different, always — creates the problem in itself. The searching. The fragile hope that the future will be better. Aimless, action-less hope.
Leading more and more, into us being -
Anywhere, but Here.
Whatever culture you live in, whatever environment, whether you’re living in the frantic money-chasing busy world, or in a tent somewhere amongst the Giraffe’s in Africa, the identification with the deep-rooted belief that there is something wrong, missing, not enough, will forever feed that discontentedness.
The identification with the mind. On all levels. Because it’s all the same.
Some thoughts, feelings, ideas seem virtuous, positive, moral, righteous.
Some seem nasty, painful, dull, negative.
Either way, the thinking state of being anywhere but Here, will always grant a limited experience of actually being Here,
And actually being content, Now.
We’re so busy being elsewhere. When we’re at work, we’re at home. When we’re at home, we’re at work. When we’re out in nature, we’re mulling over conversations. Anywhere, but Here.
And quite frankly, I’ve been experiencing exponentially building strong distain for how ridiculously normal and accepted this is.
“that’s just life” — I’ve been told, numerous times. But I refuse to accept that. And I still do.
Maybe the reality of life is, yes, that we need money. Bills, fun, experiences, food, life. Yes. But maybe the problem doesn’t lie within that. In fact, I’m coming to heavily realise that it doesn’t at all.
The problem lies in how we bring our life realities, money, work, lists, things, who we should and shouldn’t be, past life regrets, future worries — into Now.
Sounds obvious, no?
You see, the painful experiences, perhaps the heartbreaks, the abandonment, the lacking of self worth, love, you know, the obviously hurtful, uncomfortable experiences, are obvious. They’re obvious that they influence us, because we feel them deeply, starkly, and it creates a high contrast.
I’ve spent the last 3 years doing a lot of inner work, having grown up very aware of my thoughts, feelings, sensations. Recognising at the age of 8 the power of the mind, and not in a good way. Picked up, put down, chewed up, spat out by fear, worry, unease, sensations, feelings. This clearly impacts our experience of life, being here.
Since entirely committing & continuing to commit myself to a meditation practice (Ascension), working with numerous teachers, speaking openly, being vulnerable, exploring my own consciousness — this is no longer a problem. If it is for you, I’d strongly recommend you find some way you can gain more awareness of your own mind. To stop being chewed up by it.
How I feel, the thoughts I have, no longer takes all of my available attention. I no longer exist as a puppet on the strings of the mind, thrown back and forth beyond control.
But -
What I’m talking about is the harsh but dull impact that constantly being caught up in the wheel of life, the mundaneness, money, bills, to do lists, things, tasks, people, living for the weekend — how this, is as disruptive to our state of contentment, as is chewing on the above.
It’s a pesky little thing, because It’s not as obvious. We just refer to it as “life”. Because everyone spends all their time not really being Here. Thinking about the things they need to do, how fast they need to do them, and how soon they can finally go to bed. That feeling of urgency engrained deep in our cores.
Running ultramarathons, can be a little hard at times.
You see, you’re running, quite a long way, up and down mountains, for quite a long time.
Which, unsurprisingly, can be a little uncomfortable, at times.
There is, however, a knife-edge between suffering and struggling, and simply experiencing that discomfort in it’s purest form.
It highlights how, constantly living in our heads, creates struggle.
I’ve personally seen and keep on seeing, this play out in my own life. Which is all I’m going on about, really. Sorry, I am going on a bit.
The weekend just gone, I ran 30 miles. Saturday 20 miles, Sunday 10 miles. Lots of elevation, and sweat. A lot of sweat.
The 20 mile run, the one where I awoke at 2:30AM excited to dance on the mountains, went as follows:
Miles 0–3: Climbing up to a summit. Oh. This is hard. Wow. Really hard. Oh my. How am I going to run 70 miles in 4 weeks time? I’m not very fit. Something’s wrong. I can’t really breathe. This is hard. What’s the point? The mind’s whirlwind had been turned on.
Miles 3–6: Summit of mountain, awe at the views, connection, presence, wonder. Then 2 miles of downhill running, my favourite (unless I’ve ran 30 miles already, then it’s the worst, if you know, you know). Ease, flow, joy.
Miles 6–10: Running on rolling hills, till I reached the beginning of ascending up the next mountain. The mind tornado returned. But this time, with me, I became aware of what was happening. Watching the mind continuously bring up places I’d rather be, the things I want to do when home, the questioning of how I’m going to run 70 miles, thinking, thinking, thinking.
I noticed. I came back to Here. Where my feet are. Back and forth, over and over again. And I remembered, that little magic trick -
Be where your feet are.
And so the remainder of the run; I danced, back and forth. Aware that any time there was that sense of struggling, of suffering, it was because there was some form of thinking I was involved in. Even if it wasn’t about the run, even when it was about the mundane life stuff; tasks, work, stuff. Anytime I was being taken away from right now, Here, asleep — there was a sense of struggle.
Feeding the mind’s thinking about feel-good, positive things, in turn perpetuates the habit of thinking about all the other bits, that make life painful. When running, this is blaringly obvious. But it isn’t always -
As I mentioned earlier, I used to run by distracting myself away from what I was doing. A paradox really. Running to escape life, but when running I was mentally distracting myself away from the running, back to life. You see, breeding, feeding, creating a constant state of discontented, not enough’ness’.
Anywhere but Here.
One thing I’ve realised, personally, that makes running really, really hard, totally unenjoyable and borderline, eventually slipping into total utter suffering?
R u s h i n g.
You know that thing? Bred by the frantic panic of all the stuff we’ve got to do. That leads us to.. you guessed it..
BEING ANYWHERE BUT HERE.
And anytime we’re anywhere but Here… life, isn’t, easy. We can’t handle more than one thing at a time. We’re one-pointed beings. Multi-tasking was and is a total lie and it entirely hampers our efficiency and producitvity. We’re just so damn obsessed with doing everything FASTER and SOONER.
BUT FOR WHAT?
Rushing creates rushing. Rushing creates urgency, haste, and a sense of right now not being enough. It makes us stressed, and it does us no good.
Yet it’s so normal to be mentally rushing everywhere and anywhere and anything we ever do.
And the paradoxical problem being that we’re rushing to get somewhere, when the only place we can ever feel content is here. And we rush in the hope of chasing, getting closer to contentment, but each time we become further and further away from it.
There’s a reason, why, when you feel content and at peace, there’s nothing more you want. Because it’s our natural state of being. We’ve returned home. There’s nowhere else to go, nothing more to do.
Whenever we leave this state, we’re yearning to return. Searching. But I just think, and know personally, we far too easily and frequently forget what it is we’re searching for. And that the perpetual search, leads us to missing here.
You know them things that can either be a bit bready, or potatoey? Waffles. Yes, sorry. I do that a bit too much. I think I’m doing it now.
You see, running is hard when you’re waiting for it to end. When every step is about almost being nearer to finishing. Wow, it’s so hard.
When running is about every step, being just every step. Everything is truly ok. In fact, it’s bloody wonderful. Utter freedom.
You see, the first 1–2 hours or so of running, felt a little hard. I was beginning to believe that I’d lost the mental ability to do it. Until I recognised what I was doing; thinking.
The last 2–3 hours. Was just the most incredible flow. Utter awe at the movement of the clouds, the breeze of the wind on my (very) hot head, the flow of my feet over the jagged rocks, trying to snap my ankle at every step. So much so, I returned to my car at 17.5 miles in, and felt like I could run all day.
I’ve not felt like that in a long time. Even though this time, physically I was tired, legs a little achey, low on fuel.. but the art of being here Now, mentally it was no longer a struggle. I wanted to dance. So I let myself run a little more, rounding off at 20 miles, even then, I didn’t want to stop. The reminder and connection with this experience felt so needed and important; it’s strikingly obvious what thinking does, a real knife-edge.
I finished my run at the little river/stream near my car, yanked off my sticky moist toe socks (sticky and moist, again, sorry), toe by toe, ripped off my now very wet vest, that was stuck to my back, and dunked myself in the river.
The river that also happened to be filled with sheep poo, sorry to ruin the romantic ideal of this scenario.
But staring into the sky, the noise of the birds, the ache slowly dissipating from my legs as the cold spread throughout along with a deep feeling of contentment. I waddled back to my car, avoiding the sheep poo on my bare and now very wet feet, to drive home. The ingrained urge and pull of rushing to get home, long drive, all the stuff was let go of within seconds and moment by moment, I remained here. Reconnecting with all that comes with it.
Sometimes we just need to slow down.
I woke up the next morning, and did it all again. Only for half the time. Nursing some mildly achy legs, lingering whole body tiredness, but a willingness to explore and let go of the stories about it. Soon enough, my legs eased off, opened up, and I somehow ran the last 3 miles at a 2 minute per mile faster pace, than normal. I flowed down the mountain with ease, entirely aware of how fast I was going (too fast for an easy back to back run), how near the edge I was, and how loose and slippy all the rocks I was running along were — but every step was totally taken care of.
All the stories of tiredness, lingering ache, all the rest — gone. I ran so well, but more importantly — with utter freedom and joy. Becuase I was no longer warped by the lens of the mind’s, something could be better, filter. I could see it, saw it, and it no longer became a thing, a drive, a problem.
And it hammered home the realisation of the last few weeks,
Being anywhere but Here, creates discontentment. No figuring out of life is going to solve anything, but create a stream of problems in itself.
I returned home, had that blissful shower where you no longer end up smelling like a dead animal and have probably just blocked up your neighbourhood’s drain pipes with Yorkshire Dales dirt and grit, ate a lot of rice, and fell asleep in the sun.
And it all sounds so romantic, and blissful and beautiful and wow. At least, typing it did. And yeah, it kind of felt it too. But here’s the next waffle segment, to finish off (I promise) —
When there are things that feed us, give us immense joy, purpose, passion — it feels wonderful to think about them. Cling onto the experience, replay it in our minds over and over again, relive it. But really, I’m finding more and more, this again.. prevents us from actually being here Now.
But it’s like a drug. But it makes now, not enough. We’re completely closed to what’s here Now. Even though it feels good, it’s exciting, it’s “positive”. It’s still taking us away from here Now. Feeding our inability to let things go, to surrender the desire to think. The thing that keeps us bound up, forever in our own way.
There is more to life than distraction. But distraction isn’t always obvious, at least it wasn’t for me.
Ultrarunning to me, was a stepping stone to exploring the working’s of my mind, which has always held me a prisoner.
When I found this thing that gave me that senes of wow, awe, wonder, joy, passion, purpose, freedom that I’d never experienced before — I didn’t want to ever let it go. It felt like a secret magic trick I had, if I was in a ‘boring’ conversation, having a bad day, any moment that didn’t feel umphy, I’d replay, relive it, plan the next one, think about it all in my mind. It took me away from the other thoughts, feelings, things, percevied problems. It provided a temporary sense of relief, excitement, control.
But again, it’s all the same machine. It all feeds the same problem. It’s a non-obvious trap, because it feels good, until it doesn’t.
As does living for the weekend, living for later when you can rest, living for anywhere, but Here —
It feeds the thing that makes all of it a problem —
The state of thinking.
The state that takes you Anywhere, but Here.
Perhaps the finger of blame isn’t to be pointed at the Western culture of living. The big companies that try to hack our attention, feed our addictions and create our insecurities. Perhaps the problem doesn’t lie in the fact that money exists, and we kind of need it. Perhaps the problem doesn’t lie in the fact that none of us really have any idea what we are doing in life.
But perhaps it all lies in our inability to be free from the chains of thinking; from the mundane, to the hurtful, to the fun, to the exciting, to the moral, to the state where we’re entirely asleep to right now.
The environment and our external world is important, because we live in it. I personally know and feel that it is important to make that congruent with what matters to you. To do the things you want to do, say the things you want to say, have the experiences you desire. Change your jobs, relationships, way of living. Things, stuff, bits and bobs.
But, the reliance on all of this to finally give us that state of contentment, is an absolute trap. My conscious existence of being chained to my mind, dictated by fear, thinking, sensations, feelings.. to being lost in a 3 month whirlwind of rage, confusion and questioning of what we’re all doing, have all lead to exactly the same place —
The pointing inwards.
Because I refuse to accept that I have to live anywhere, but Here.
The journey, the evolution, of this never ending experience of Now isn’t always a comfortable one. And many times, I have wished for that blissful ignorance that some have. In fact, I’ve always wished for that.
Being a young child watching my friends play in the streets in a care-free state, whilst I felt I was trapped in my head and my thoughts, a heightened awareness of everything going on; internally and externally, and no idea how to articulate it. Other than to just, “get on with it”.
Little did I know that the human condition, the one which the majority of, if not all of us, are all subject to at some point, is the same. Our reality suffering created by the same machinery and mechanism, the identification and attachment with our minds.
But at some point, “just getting on with it” no longer becomes an option. It no longer becomes tolerable. There is a greater sense that this can’t be it.
And the knowing and understanding, even if it’s denied at the surface level of our minds and being.. recognises that it’s entirely within.
It has very little do with how we make our lives look.
It’s whether or not we’re actually Awake.
So this 110k in 4 weeks, I can’t wait for. 20–25 hours of dancing; how uncomfortable can you be without suffering? When you think you can’t, but you can, what happens?
Ultrarunning continues to be an extension of exploring all that stuff. It just so happens, its fun as heck too. The people are great. And, you just can’t stop eating. Or actually, you can’t eat at all. One of the two.
And a note: if you are suffering, in anyway, know that the words above aren’t meant as some patronising, simplistic view of life. Yeah, just stop thinking and you’ll be fine. Great! Thanks for that!
I know, from personal experience, that it is entirely possible to be freed from that state. No matter how much you deem it utterly impossible, and how helpless you believe yourself to be. There are great, wonderful people, teachers, humans out there, who can hold your hand and guide you.
And I see no other True way of doing it, than developing a relationship with who you really are, that silent, never changing space within. Not your thoughts, feelings, sensations — mind. Not creating more positive thoughts, doing more damn worksheets.
There is only so much that that can ever do, at least for me, personally.
As much as my words about the seeking and searching may have painted it in a negative frame, I do feel it is an entirely necessary experience to cause you to find someone, something, or be open to help or guidance.
Without that initial jarred, unsettledness — you’d probably seek no change. You’d let that bubbling up of life being more than this, slowly eat away at you.
Don’t let it eat away at you.
If you’re anywhere but Here, there is an entire life out there waiting for you. I know this, because everyday I’m experiencing and seeing this, and I know many other people who have.
I personally practice Ascension meditation, and continue to work closely with some very incredible teachers who continue to reflect back to me more and more. But there are many, many methods and teachings out there.
Don’t wait for it to happen; act with that urge. That urge has an urgency for a reason.
Anyway — wow, waffling!
Thanks for reading. Bit long. And now I’m hot.
Ok thanks bye!
Watch my recent documentary, “Falling Down — Attempting to run 100 miles”
