Distressed & driven by dark imaginings — 6 hours running in the mountains.
Yesterday I spent 6 hours running in the mountains.
Training for a 106 mile ultramarathon, and a 38 mile ultramarathon that’s on the shortest day of the year, in winter, in the mountains means one thing -
One must get better at experiencing many weathers.
And with many weathers — comes many feelings.
18.9 miles, 7,000ft of elevation & up to 50mph winds resulted in many a feelings of aloneness, fear & dark imaginings.
But with that, came many feelings of stillness, peace & joy.
All of it. Every single one of them.
Yesterday I had 4 profound moments of “nope, I can’t do that”
Following some random route I found on the internet, looking ahead at some high, steep edges, covered in cloud and being battered by wind, with no other human in sight.
The feeling of fear was deep, intense. The aloneness and beyond the point of help if needed made for a dangerous dance. Dancing on the edge, seems to be where the growth lies.
Of course, I was fine.
And every time I had this feeling, stopping starting, wondering whether or not to turn around, I just committed to one more step, just the next step and if I wanted to turn around at any point, then I could.
I didn’t see a human for 4 hours, and was above 500m for that entire time. Being pushed around by forceful wind. Covered in rain. With some occasional moments of clouds parting, sun shining. Occasional being the key word.
That feeling of aloneness, was good and bad. But mainly bad. But the good kind of bad. Just another feeling, another experience. One to let come and go.
Learning to not be dictated and driven by dark imaginings, is what running in the mountains teaches me, every time, all the time.
Mountains, stand there, tall and anchored.
Nothing to prove, nothing to hide.
They get battered and bruised by the wind, rain, hail, snow..
And made light by the sun and clear sky.
But they still stand there, with nothing to prove, nothing to hide.
Open to all the experiences to come.
After a few days spent chatting with some amazing women, all about resistance, feelings, being open to experience — and mainly; the shitty British culture of the only acceptable feeling ever is motivation and happiness.
How backwards and naive we are. Stressed, suppressed and repressed. Insecure. Trying to prove and hide everything.
Mountains are inspirational in every sense of the word. And an example for how I want to be.
Growing up in a western patriarchal masculine culture where emotion is seen as bad, unstable and wrong — I think mountains can teach us lots.
As does running.
Throughout running for almost 6 hours yesterday, through bogs, scree, and all that relates — I experienced many things.
Memories, reflections, flow, joy, euphoria, pride, momentary anger, sadness, frustration, hope.
Coming and going.
Running has shown me, that should I choose to resist this experience, and have the idea that running should only be exciting & intensely euphoric, I would struggle.
And I used to do that — struggle, through everything.
With the physical and mental fatigue, exhaustion & differing sensations that come with running, for a long time, up many mountains, I gain an alerted sense of awareness of this experience.
These feelings, these moments, they peak, and then they trough. They move through me, like the wind.
But should I hold onto them, should I try and stop them, argue with them — they stay and I suffer.
“be where your feet are” is something I always bring into my awareness when running.
It can be as simple as when I notice myself calculating the times, the distance, how long left, the fatigue, the rush to get home..
All the way to being caught and lost in a feeling, a memory, a self defeating place of mind.
The moment I am here, where my feet are, physically, mentally — there is no problem.
And these moments, allow the awareness, the awareness that shows me that these feelings and energy can move through me and it will peak, and it will eventually trough.
I wish I could transcript my mind when running. The creativity, the fear, the joy, the excitement, the doubt, the questioning.
All part of the human experience, and one that I am making my life’s mission and priority to do — to experience, and to not resist.
We have no say in the weather.
We cannot control it. We can’t change it. We can’t stop it.
But should we argue with it, should we change our lives around it, should we judge it — it becomes a problem.
The wind becomes anger inducing. The rain becomes annoying. The cloud becomes frustrating.
The weather changes, it cycles, it moves. It comes and it goes. The entire spectrum of it.
It moves through the earth, and then once it’s done, it’s done. Until it’s not, and it’s ready to begin, again.
This — I am learning, is exactly how our brains work. Our feelings, our emotions, our experiences.
But we only seem to like the sun. The good, the happiness, euphoria, excitement, joy.
And all else, that falls outside of this category, is wrong, bad and we do not want.
They are uncomfortable, yes — but so is the hail and the high force wind at the top of a mountain, but should you open yourself up to it, you can see it for what it is.
Realise it will go. Realise it’s not a problem when you’re fully involved in it.
With running, the stress, difficulty and struggle seems to come when we have conflicting ideas.
At least, that’s my experience.
“I should find this easy”
But I’m not.
“I should be having so much fun”
But I’m not.
“I should be going faster”
But I’m not.
“I shouldn’t feel scared”
But I am.
This contradictory thinking, back and forth, creates stress and resistance.
Whereas if we just felt the hardness, felt the discomfort, felt the fear, it’s not a problem.
We run, our legs tick over, and muscle’s contract, our mind changes and so does our experience.
And that’s why running in the mountains is so beautiful.
To find peace in the fear, the aloneness, the ever changing weathers, internally and externally.
To not suffer, to not resist, to not argue with — but to experience.
What a lesson that is.
To be shown that rain comes, and rain goes.
That clouds cover, and clouds part.
That sun shines, and sun gets covered.
To be cold, but to soon warm.
To be wet, but to soon dry.
To be tired, but soon energised.
To be in peak joy, but soon back to baseline.
To be in peak fear, but soon back to confidence.
To remember, not to forget — that weather changes, and so do we.
And that’s ok.
