What is Ultra? I won’t pretend for a second that I have some universal answer, that I have any right to define a word beyond what it means to me personally, in the shoes I wear today. I truly hope every year of my life brings another level of depth and meaning to the word.
For some, Ultra is a sense of community, a sense of belonging. For others, it is a fascination with the idea that so many limits are self-imposed, simply fences we have built around ourselves, or allowed others to build for us. For me, the meaning hasn’t changed as much as it has added layers, each true in its own right and bringing another perspective to a three-dimensional object we can only see two sides of at any given time.
I moved a lot as a child, and I have moved more than most adults. For over a decade I have dragged around a small, deteriorating, cardboard, U-Haul box. It it full of trophies with heavy marble bases supporting large, plastic, athletic figures dipped in gold-colored paint, some random message engraved on the bottom.
Every time in recent memory that I lifted that box I was overwhelmed with a sense of discord. Only very recently did I realize the problem. These objects had no real meaning to me. Most were unearned, the result of a failed experiment.
When I was growing up in the ‘80s and ‘90s, the prevailing idea was that failure was a very very bad thing, detrimental to any child’s emotional health. “Everyone's a winner” was the unofficial motto of my generation. The intention was good, but the message was twisted and rang of a carnival experience. I grew up thinking failing was the enemy.
Three decades later, I have a different view. Can you name one successful person in recorded history with a perfect track record? If you can, then you are wrong. The inventor Thomas Edison had thousands of failures for each of his successes. Before leading the fight against apartheid in South Africa and uniting a country, Nelson Mandela served 27 years in prison. The point isn’t that these individuals were not extraordinary. They were extraordinary. The point is they were also ordinary. They FAILED at things. But that didn’t keep them from becoming extraordinary. On the contrary, the failures became a foundation for later successes. Do some digging on anyone special and you will see this is a universal truth. There is no path to success that doesn’t involve hiccups along the way. No summers without winters. No peaks without valleys. They go together. They are inseparable.
My own experiences in life seem to reinforce this.
My first marriage ended in divorce. My ex-wife’s mother died from cancer about ten weeks after our wedding. We all stood around her unconscious, sepsis-ridden body as the life support machines were disconnected. I didn’t have the understanding or maturity to emotionally support my first spouse the way she needed through such a tragedy. But I learned a lot from my mistakes. I treasure my second wife who I know is my soulmate. I know one day in the distant future I will proudly share a grave next to this amazing woman.
I had mediocre grades in college and was unsure of a career path. I started law school on the advice of a family member and dropped out before the end of the first semester. I then started an accounting master’s program and graduated at the top of my class with a perfect GPA for my last 57 hours.
I had a disastrous DNF at my first 100 mile attempt. I later signed up for and completed 126.2 miles while being violently sick with a respiratory infection. (Mom and Dad crewed and deserve much credit.)
In retrospect, every significant success in my life, every victory, everything I am proud of that makes me who I am--it is all based on and built on failure in one way or another. Everything I have ever gotten right is founded on some abysmal disappointment.
I finally understand the pit in my stomach anytime I moved those participant, club-sport trophies. In a few years, when my toddlers are older, I’ll pull all of the trophies out of the box and explain how meaningless and victoryless each one is. I’m going to explain that their generation has nothing to fear from failure. It is absolutely imminent. But It’s also beautiful because it is a path to victory, a path to every gift they have to offer. It is a root, that if watered, allows the opportunity to grow something really big.
This summer I directed the second Ouray 100 Mile Endurance Run. It wasn’t a flawless or easy experience, for me or the runners. The new route had over 40,000 feet of climbing (tougher than any race I am aware of). Two incredibly accomplished runners quit with only ten miles and five thousand feet of climbing remaining. One runner insisted that he deserved a belt buckle. (Nevermind a 65 year old was about to finish.) The crew of the second runner also insisted on an official finish.
I told them no. They weren’t happy, but I figured I was at a fork in the road.
Option one was the everyone’s-a-winner, kiss-everyone’s-ass, customer-is-king option. That is all fine and well, but this isn’t Walmart. Immediate satisfaction isn’t guaranteed. Just about any route through the San Juan Mountains in SW Colorado will give you double the elevation change of any other mountain range. For hundreds of years only the toughest and most resilient individuals have succeeded here, be they Ute Indians or scrappy hardrock miners.
Virtually all other race directors are offering easy routes with generous cutoffs in an attempt to get more business. I don’t make a living doing this, so I have the luxury of taking the Ouray 100 in a different direction, even if option two costs me signups. I simply don’t want to have a San Juan race where success is guaranteed. I owe you more than that. I respect you too much to give you a damn freebie, to hand you a participant trophy. You deserve a challenge you aren’t going to get anywhere else. In my heart of hearts I believe you have the strength and resilience to overcome anything this route or I can throw at you. Even if you fail, you will be better for it. Like muscles, your torn spirit will grow back even stronger and more defiant, ready to take on even bigger challenges.
In short, for me Ultra is about taking risks, rejecting comfort zones, embracing challenges, learning from failures, and always coming back smarter and stronger.
Bring it on, 2016.
