Thoughts on Risk

I volunteered at the Pittsfield Peaks 53 Miler last weekend so I could get a sense for what it takes to do an ultra. While I don't think I have gained any insight into what mental and physical strengths or insights are necessary, it did make me think a little more deeply about what running ultramarathons would demand of me and people who care about me. I also got a better look at part of the ultra community, and liked what I saw.

It's awfully easy to think that doing any dangerous activity is a simple bet: your skill and effort wagered against the consequences of failure. If you mess up badly, or circumstances are badly stacked against you, then you pay the price in pain, danger, and temporary or permanent injury. This view is incomplete, since you are far from the only one with a stake in your survival. When I broke my femur in November 2006, I learned exactly how many people were there for me. There are so many people who will be afraid for you, who will take care of you, and who will fight for you to get better again. When taking risks with life and limb, the consequences of failure could include putting your friends and family through a fair amount of heartache.

With that said, I'm 95% certain that I'll have run a 50 miler within the next year. The danger is real -- I saw a few people at Pittsfield who had somewhat major hydration issues. While I don't think any of them required hospitalization, it was still abundantly clear that even a slight mistake in eating and drinking could get ruinously compounded over the course of the race. Trail running itself is not perfectly safe, as my dislocated shoulder will willingly attest. Even the most knowledgeable and fit people can get hammered into the ground by the wrong conditions, as recently happened to ultrarunning pioneer David Horton. But what I saw of the ultrarunning community convinced me that they were definitely my kind of folks -- adventurous, humble, and interesting. While I'm sure it's possible to do a road race in a noncompetitive spirit, it's been a long time since I felt like I was running against just myself. But when there might be a mile or three between you and the next runner, it certainly seems a little more possible to treat it as an adventure in the woods.

How do I intend to reconcile the objective risks of my various activities with my personal reasons to do them? I think it comes down to education, training, and risk management. It's not good enough for me to read a few brief articles on hydration and race strategy -- I need to have a solid scientific and practical understanding of the various bodily systems that support running, and be able to recognize the manifestations of and solutions to any problems that arise. I also need to be in phenomenal shape. When training up for some of my previous marathons, I'd procrastinate a little too much on my training and end up running the marathon before I was really strong enough. Before running an ultra, I really need to build a very solid base of marathons, trail/mountain running, and general conditioning. The most important part is to take risks under the right circumstances and with the right preparation. I really like the idea of freestyle running/parkour, which incorporates elements of gymnastics and buildering. However, I'm no longer trying it during my runs after two near-injuries. I have plenty of time later in my life to work on it in the right context. I'm also unlikely to do base jumping or much high-altitude mountaineering, since I feel that the risk becomes a much larger part of the total difficulty than the required athleticism.

Do I have any conclusions to draw from this? Not really. I doubt I'll change my running/racing plans until November or so. I guess that even though I could probably finish a 50 miler right now, I would like to be fast enough to actually run one(My sister will make fun of me if I end up walking it in). I have the Mt. Washington road race tomorrow morning, so I guess we'll just take it one step at a time.