Why Do Runners Run?

By Shokofeh Motlagh

Why do runners run? This is a question I have often asked myself. Running is not a comfortable sport.  I start to question myself each time I have a bloody blister or lose another toenail.  Or when we’re running Wednesday morning track intervals and push the speed work to a sense of lack of oxygen and nausea. When you do 24 by 200s or 16 by 400s and you’re pushing the speed until that very last bit. Lungs and legs are on fire. Yet you finish with that dorky satisfied half grin knowing you have achieved something real.  There’s further questioning of my sanity when I’m out on a long run and reach that barrier where I’m utterly exhausted and feel I have absolutely nothing to give. My legs start to feel like lead and I’m mentally fried and can’t seem to take another step. Somehow, somewhere we runners push through and finish that long run. Sometimes we don’t even comprehend where that last little bit of energy or power came from.

So if there’s so much pain involved, why would anyone take on such a sport? Why would anyone wake up at 4am day after day to face cold or heat, rain or snow just to endure pain? It doesn’t make sense does it?

I always knew I was different. However, I think the event that made me realize there was no going back to “normal” was my 51km Full Moon Extraterrestrial race. Once I give you the details of this race and the state I was in to run this race, you’ll know exactly what I mean.  Let me first explain to you that “runners” are not usually illogical people. They know what is “right” and what would be considered to be “not healthy” behaviors. To make it clear, we are not idiots. In fact, our IQs are rather high. When injured, we research the symptoms, etiology and treatment to every ounce of detail. Despite having intellect and being rather knowledgeable, runners are not good at following advice. The little voice that tells us “No, I don’t think that is a good idea” is quite often ignored.  Words that are often used to describe runners are Type A, OCD, stubborn.  In my opinion, these are rather harsh labels.

Back to this 51km which at the time seemed like a brilliant idea. This race was not planned by any means.  Keith and I ran the Eugene Marathon at the end of July 2014 and had a great trip. Eugene Marathon was my fourth full marathon of 2014 and I completed that race in 3:25 and considering the heat in the last half of the race, I was pleased with the outcome.

Eugene Marathon is usually held in the month of May but because the race director wanted it held in unison with the IAAF World Junior Track & Field Championship, they decided to change it to July in 2014. This meant suboptimal conditions for the marathon and dealing with heat and humidity. After many complaints and medical emergencies, they decided to change it back to May in 2015. It’s a beautiful course and very well organized in track town and I highly recommend this marathon to all runners.  You get to finish your marathon by running half a lap on Hayward Field (the track for the Olympic trials) and all the spectators are sitting up in the bleachers cheering for you. It was an amazing experience!

Little did I know that we would sign up and run my first ultra, a very challenging 51km course exactly two weeks after Eugene.  I guess you can say it was a spur of the moment decision by me and Keith.  I had always wanted to run an ultra and had looked into various ultra road races (there really aren’t that many road races) but I had not planned on running this particular one and definitely not so soon. I also didn’t know that I would be very ill leading up to the race with a high fever and chills. I guess you can’t plan for everything. We flew to Vegas on the Friday evening after a full day of work and our flight was delayed by four hours. Sitting in the cold Tucson airport until 10 pm with a fever was not my idea of fun to be honest. Once we arrived in Vegas, we checked in the hotel and passed right out. The next day, Saturday, we were supposed to meet at the Hard Rock Hotel and Casino by 8pm to check in for the race. I spent the entire morning in bed just trying to break my fever. I drank lots of fluids and took lots of Tylenol flu medication hoping it would help. Keith got me lunch and we just tried to relax as much as possible. From the Hard Rock we left around 10pm on buses that were to take us to the race starting line. Oh yes, did I mention the race start time was at midnight? Hence why the race is called Extraterrestrial Full Moon 51km.

We spent two hours on the bus as we drove into the desert in the dark. All attempts to take a nap on the bus failed.  At approximately midnight, the buses came to a halt in the middle of nowhere and we were told to get off the bus. We were with our friends Luis, Allie and Callie on this trip. Keith and I took our headlamps, gels, hand held water and we complied. We all gathered at a mailbox which was supposedly the starting line. The famous Black Mailbox they called it is in fact white. To this day, I do not understand the significance of the damn mailbox. As we all gathered around this mailbox, the race director instructed us to gather for a prerace photo. Then without a warning, she said “Ok GO!!”  So everyone started running on the extraterrestrial highway (Area 51) into the distance. We were so shocked. We figured to just follow the crowd. I also didn’t realize that the first 13 miles of this race was all significant uphill. The race started at 4523 feet and climbed to its peak of 5617 at mile 12.8. We ran 26 miles in a straight path on a canted highway with oncoming traffic shining their headlights at us. At the 26^th mile mark, there was a police car with a siren. We were supposed to turn around at the police car and run the additional 5.7 miles to reach the finish line at 31.7 miles.  Keith ran the entire race with me. It was a very difficult race for me. Partly because I had never run at midnight before. Partly because I was very ill. Partly because I hadn’t recovered fully from my recent marathon yet. There were so many reasons. I told myself that I would start very slow. I kept reminding myself I had a long way to go and if I wanted to be able to complete this race, I would have to be smart about it. We started climbing straight from mile 1 maintaining an 8:30 pace. At the time, I was having some knee trouble and it started to act up around mile 4. All I could think about was I had close to 28 miles to go with this knee pain. We kept trotting along. By mile 12, I was spent. We managed to maintain pace up to that point. I knew this wasn’t going to be a good day. I was sweating more than usual with chills. My knee was hurting. My hip from the cant in the road was now aching. I couldn’t eat anything because my stomach was not cooperating with me. I told Keith at mile 13 (at the top of the hill) that I needed to walk a few steps. After a few steps of gathering myself, we started up again. I forced myself to have a few powerade gummies. Our pace maintained in the 8:20-8:30s for a while and then slowed down a bit. My goal was to just finish at that point. I was not a happy camper. There was absolutely no “runners high” as they call it. There was no “yay this is so awesome!” I just wanted that darn finish line. We took a few more steps around mile 16-18. By mile 20, we were able to see the siren on the police car. Seeing the siren made me feel maybe my life was coming to an end. Maybe I had passed out and the ambulance was coming for me. But somehow the siren was getting further and further away. We foolishly thought we were close. Little did we know we had 6 more miles until the siren and turn around. The siren was so bright and the road was so dark and empty that you were able to see this red flashing light for 6 miles! This was by far the worst part of the race. I felt time had stopped. My garmin was not moving. How could this be? How this damn siren could seem so close but we never manage to reach it? How could my garmin be reading each tenth of a mile as if it was an eternity. I tried to just distract my thoughts during this part of the race. Tried to relax and not think of my pain or how awful I felt. Keith tried to make conversation and I just did not feel like talking. Poor guy! I can’t ever fully describe how awful this part of the race felt. Once we got to mile 26 and the siren, I had an orange slice and then we turned around and started running back. We knew we were in the “finishing” stretch. ONLY 5.7 miles to go! Once you’ve run a marathon distance already, another 10 km shouldn’t feel like a lot right? Umm, WRONG. We did quite a bit of walking the last several miles. I kept myself running and told myself I’d allow few steps of walking after each mile. It soon became a bit of walking on the half mile. The last mile I was able to pull the last bit of energy or whatever was left in me and make it to that finish line.

Finish time was 4:53 for 31.7 miles on a very difficult course, second overall female finisher. My prize was a rock. Yes you heard me, a rock. Keith got a rock too for finishing first in his age group. We boarded the bus at 4:53AM holding our rocks and ready for our two hour drive back to Las Vegas.  I can honestly say that this race experience will remain a part of me forever!

So back to the question, why do runners run when there’s so much misery and pain involved? I can only tell you why I started to run and why I continue to find beauty in this sport and the positive effects on my life. I am a full time orthodontist but my life consists of primarily work, sleep and running. Running is a huge part of my life. Endless hours are spent training and preparing. When runners aren’t running, well we’re talking about running. Talking training strategies, reading books on running, physical therapy, massages, recovery methods, cross training. You name it. Our lives are consumed by this fabulous sport.  Running has made me respect my body more. It has allowed me to see the human body as such a fierce machine. We have so much potential that’s just waiting to be unleashed. It’s amazing to see what used to seem difficult and almost impossible no longer feels that way. With the right fuel, the right training and support, we are capable of reaching goals we never thought possible.

We all face so many obstacles and struggles in life. We may be facing marital problems, health problems, addictions, family problems, financial difficulties or eating disorders just to name a few. We all face different struggles at various points in our lives. Running has helped me become a stronger individual. I am able to handle stress with a different attitude. Running has given me a much more positive outlook on life and enabled me to meet so many wonderful friends. My best friends in life are now all runners.  I always encourage my friends and family to put on a pair of running shoes and let this simple sport change your life. I know it was the best decision of my life by far!

My First (and Last) Trail Race

By Guest Blogger Jennie Sparrow

“What kind of gloves are those?”  I said this without even trying to hide my “what kind of idiot are you?” tone.  “You’d honestly be warmer wrapping a single layer of saran wrap around your hands; those are the thinnest things I’ve ever seen, “ I told her as we sat shivering.  We were in my friend Holly’s 20 year old BMW, a used car she’d had since we met at freshman orientation at Agnes Scott College in Atlanta.  We were awaiting the start of a trail half marathon in November in Athens, Georgia.  Unfortunately for us, it had been extremely cold and raining the entire week prior and we were in for a misty and cold running experience.  Holly explained to me that when she went to pick up her bib that morning, the chipper woman at registration asked, with the enthusiasm of a high school cheerleader, “Are you pre-registered?”  “’I wanted to tell her, ‘ Holly would later recount, ‘Would I BE here is I WASN’T?’ “ It was that cold and miserable. 

We looked at her gloves some more, with the curiosity of archeologists who had just stumbled on a rare find.   “I found them at my mom’s house last week.  I think I’ve had them for about 20 years, “ she said with a touch of pride.  As I thought about where I was 20 years ago, it came to me.  “BAND GLOVES!  Holly, are those the gloves you wore as a flag girl in marching band?”  She cracked a smile and yelled triumphantly, “YES!”  So here we were, sitting in a car and shivering, trying not the think about the fact that this was the most comfortable we would be in the next 3 hours, and all my friend had to keep her warm was band gloves.  It would be a long day.

About 6 weeks prior, I came across the advertisement for this race, an inaugural trail half marathon the weekend after Thanksgiving.  The registration fee was $25 and the race was 15 minutes from my house, a drive that involved exactly one turn.  Anyone who knows me knows that two words that describe me best are cheap and lazy.  The price and location were right, so I called my old college friend and encouraged her to drive down from Asheville, North Carolina, and do the race with me.  We were both recreational runners, but were running mainly shorter runs.  “We can do this, “ I told her with a confidence that bordered on arrogance.  “We’re running shorter runs now; we just need to build up to one long run of 10 miles in the next few weeks and we’ll be fine.”  This would be her first half marathon and my first trail race.   I thought back to my misplaced confidence as we were shivering in the car. 

Once we realized that the race was about to start with or without us, we got out of the car and headed to the starting line with the less than 100 other, obviously pre-registered, questionably sane people.  Will Chamberlain (not to be confused with Wilt, who was famous for other feats of endurance), the race director for all the races in the area, told us about the route.  As usual, I tuned out, because, let’s face it, unless you are planning on leading the race, you don’t really need to know where you are going.  And then he said what he said before every race, “Have a good race.  Have a safe race.”  And we were off.  (When Will died unexpectedly several years later, I would feel a sense of loss that took me by surprise.).

I gave Holly some last minute advice.  After all, it was her first half marathon.  As we headed into the woods and onto the single track trail, I had a terrible realization.  I.don’t.run.trails.  Somehow this fact had eluded me when I was filling out the registration form, doing my training exclusively on the roads, and even sitting in the car that morning.   I am horribly uncoordinated, not at all agile, and terrified of falling.  Not a good recipe for a trail runner.  I knew this would be a long day as I walked sideways down the first hill.  Holly, on the other hand, was not quite as fit as I was but a much better athlete.  She jogged along happily in front of me listening to her ipod.  She turned around and grinned, “Justin and I are bringing sexy back!”  I smiled back, “Good old JT!,” I said, trying to hide the fact that I was way out of my comfort zone. 

We froze, jogged, and occasionally walked sideways along that wet double loop for over 2 ½ hours.  We finished the race exhausted and beaten down, but in 3^rd and 4^th place in our age group!  If you ask us now, we may even admit that there were only 4 people in our age group.  I wish I had some sort of epiphany or life lesson to share, but I’m guessing you have to pay more than $25 to get one of those.   Although this was years ago and Holly and I are now thousands of miles apart, we still get a good laugh and will be forever bonded by that race that “seemed like a good idea at the time.”  On second thought, maybe I got my $25 worth after all.