They say running is suffering. At the height of my athletic ability, I was able to run a 25 minute 5K and a 52 minute 10K. I’ve never run a half marathon race, but I’ve ran a half marathon distance in two and a half hours. So take it from me even as someone who’s only slightly ahead of the bell curve in terms of male runners in their mid 30’s, running SUCKS. It’s high impact. It’s EXHAUSTING. Motivation waxes and wanes.
But runners LOVE suffering, the most extreme examples being long distance athletes — trail runners, marathon runners, ultra runners. Very few will ever say it’s purely about fitness, rather it’s about remaking oneself, becoming both the sculptor and the sculpture — not suffering for suffering’s sake but as a way to understand pain and the healing process. Pain will always be an aspect of overcoming anything challenging. There’s a misconception; It isn’t to come out of the fires of pain to become harder, for hardness alone makes for something brittle. To truly forge something means to alter the original, to enhance by bonding with something, to infuse, to change, to become softer then malleable then resilient.
But this is not about running.
There are roughly 1.3 million annual marathon event finishers (not unique people, a runner who finishes multiple marathons a year are counted each time) but by even the most generous estimate that means less than 0.17% of the world’s population run a marathon each year. And that’s not including the ones who participate but did not finish whether due to injuries, becoming disqualified, or not crossing before the cutoff time. The most challenging races such as MOAB 240 require a significant investment. Participants typically bring their own support crew to manage aid; provide food, rest, and shelter; and keep pace. Of the 100-250 yearly participants only 60% will finish. No one wants to not finish. Imagine not just the material cost but the emotional one — the effort, blood, sweat, and tears. That’s why it’s a community. There is camaraderie in being in the same suck as someone who knows exactly what it took to get there and how much further is ahead. You will all run the same race. You will all start at the same time. Some will get there faster, some slower. Some unfortunately will not make it.
And it’s not for a lack of motivation, everyone runs for a reason. Look at diversity of answers when people are asked at the end of a race, “what are you running for?” They’re raising awareness for a cause; They may dedicate it to a friend or a loved one living or dead; They’re proving it to themselves, set a personal record; They’re doing it for a challenge; They want to break barriers. But sometimes life will just drag you down through no fault of your own.
But this is not about running.
My favorite heartwarming videos on the internet, other than rescuing animals or airport reunions, are moments of humanity in racing. Take this year’s viral Boston Marathon moment where Northeastern University student Ajay Haridasse collapsed at the 26 mile mark, just 1000 feet short of the finish line. He attempts to get back up multiple times but fails and it’s clear that the physical exhaustion is taking over. The crowd is unable to do anything but yell words of encouragement. It is heartbreaking to watch: Here is a human pushed to the precipice of defeat and he’s clinging on for dear life. How I imagine what Ajay was thinking, what any of us would wish for in our lowest moments. Can you remember the hurt and desperation when all you wanted was to give up and begged loudly in your heart for the universe to give you a helping hand? That you’d pledge fealty to the edge of the world and back for any god to answer your prayer? But everyone runs for something and it is hard to ask anyone to sacrifice their wish for someone else. As history shows, the first one through the wall will always be bloodied. At the 26 mile mark, everyone is suffering physically and mentally. There’s so much tunnel vision that you can’t even spare the smallest cognitive load to focus on anything other than reaching the end. Sacrifice by definition is never free.
For Aaron Beggs, who was on pace for his personal best, helping was not even a question. It was “instinct” he said. He stops and tries pulling Ajay up but it is not quite enough. It required a second body — A body that came in the form of Robson Oilveira, who was also on pace for his personal best, to help. The two men carried Ajay the last 1000 feet across the finish line before collapsing themselves. While none of them accomplish their personal goals, all three finished with a 2:44, enough to qualify them for next year’s marathon. How beautiful for these three men from of the most diverse backgrounds came through for one another in today’s political climate where we’ve been told to accept “rugged, fuck you individualism.”
In this moment of humanity, I’m reminded of Saint Crispin’s Day speech from Shakespeare’s Henry V on the eve of the Battle of Agincourt:
“From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remember’d;
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother;”
This was not about running. more
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