Relentless Forward Progress_ A Guide to Running Ultramarathons - Bryon Powell [2]
Finally, a big thank you to the iRunFar community. Without all of you (as well as the counsel of Adam Chase and Garett Graubins), I wouldn’t have stepped out of my professional life to write about trail and ultrarunning full time. In short, you made this book possible. Thanks!
FOREWORD
Eric Grossman
It’s the middle of the night. The lantern burns with a continuous Darth Vader breath. Melinda Day hovers over her cast-iron pot, still tucked into the dying coals of her fire pit. Her children have long since eaten. She scrapes the drying bits of lasagna to combine them with the large portions remaining. Mike Day is still on the mountain.
Seven runners had gathered two days prior at Indian Grave Gap near Erwin, Tennessee. We set out to run for six days along the Appalachian Trail heading north along the Tennessee–North Carolina boarder to Grayson Highlands State Park. Our families joined us. Overnight stays were planned for campgrounds near places where the trail crossed a road after a more or less full day of running. Day 2 ended at Dennis Cove Road near Hampton, Tennessee, about a mile away from the Forest Service campground. Five of us completed the 37-mile leg in between 9 and 11 hours. One of us stopped short of the full distance and got a ride into camp. Only Mike remained on the trail.
The atmosphere of a midsummer night at a campground feels remarkably familiar. Groups of people coalesce and disperse with the quiet rhythm of mountain streams. Voices and laughter rise along with the crackle of campfires. As the fires burn down people slip away, one or two at a time, into tents or campers. The few remaining conversations combine with the insistent calls of insects and frogs to create the perfect lullaby.
Camping is a lot like running. We do it even though we don’t have to. We have all the supplies we need to eat and sleep right at home. In the rare cases that we have to travel it would likely be most efficient to utilize hotels and restaurants. Instead, many of us keep a stash of sleeping bags and pads, camp pillows, propane stoves, camp cookware and utensils, lighters, coolers, and many other items that work less well than their at-home counterparts. Some of us spend weeks or months planning our camping trips. We write checklists for ourselves. We use brainpower to get properly outfitted even though the whole project is irrational.
When I prepare for camping I purposely avoid getting all the details worked out. I could rent a fully equipped RV and plan my daily itinerary online. Instead, I hastily load the van with the big things I know we need and leave the rest to the vagaries of my spotty memory. That way when I start to gather wood and realize that I forgot my ax (which nearly always happens), I am required to call upon my resources and work a little harder. Part of the appeal of camping is the challenge; making it easy and convenient would defeat the purpose.
We all contrive obstacles for ourselves. We do it so much that we sometimes forget that most (or all) of what we do is not necessary. We can justify many things we do that are beyond the minimum because we want something better for ourselves or others. We go to college so we can get a better sort of job, for example. Outdoor pursuits, and especially ultrarunning, do not fit easily into this category. We go camping, hiking, climbing, running, kayaking, and skiing even though they don’t benefit us in tangible ways. These activities are tiring, risky, time consuming, and often costly. They can also be thrilling, providing experiences