That's Why: ¯\(°_o)/¯

runners of all walks of life are often asked this one question by non-runners, which, while simple and only constructed of a few words, begs a thinking process tantamount to answering an Epistemology course exam question.   it's worse for ultrarunners as, to most pedestrian spectators, we're appearing to be half-assedly attempting suicide, or at least slightly deranged. 

"why do you run?"

simple, reasonable answers exist for this question.  
"I need to cry sometimes."
"homicide is illegal."
"I'm too cheap for laxatives...."
"...then I have to earn my cake."

however,  few realize that the wide range of responses applicable to this question actually forms a bigger, more fundamental reason for why you run.  the problem is that this reason does not manifest itself through words but only appears as a mild sensation while you're running.  henceforth--the more tangible an answer becomes, the harder it is to put it into sentences.  

in this eleventy-bajillion part feature, I will attempt to put my spin into the runner's search for meaning.  as noted, the resulting draft of a runner's rambling manifesto will be guaranteed to DNF.  each post will connect to a previous post in some manner, forming a giant puzzle of indeterminate size and product.  however--i hope this sisyphean endeavor will help you find a more purposeful consciousness to your running regime.  enjoy.

Race Report: Suck it Up Whiney Baby

I received positive reception to the format of my last race report, so I'll stick with that until it loses its novelty.   (but, like, mostly because I was hallucinating so much that it'll be very difficult to for me to turn this into a continuous story of sorts.)  Enjoy. 

Flying into Kelowna, I couldn't recall why I even signed up for the 120 mile version of Fat Dog back in November.  192km in the middle of British Columbia with around 175m less elevation gain than that of climbing Everest is not a fun weekend for anyone, especially if my longest distance to date back then was 125km.  Yes, it was a Hardrock qualifier, but that's not something you dream about yet if you haven't even broken 100 miles [at the time].  The race guide lists it as "More difficult than Cascade Crest, Big Horn, IMTUF, HURT, Bear 100 and Angeles Crest"--races I hadn't even dared entering.  Competitor Magazine calls it one of North America's hardest races (#11) while Outside Magazine puts it as one of the nine toughest ultramarathons--sure discouragement for the inexperienced.  The race website straight-up says it was not for beginners.  It seemed like a good idea at the time, I guess--especially, as you'll read, for a lot of the field.  

AmTips: So You Find Out Your Reservoir Has Reached the End of Its Useful Life Almost 24h Before Your Race Starts

You wake up to a puddle on the hotel carpet the day before your race.  But you don't have a dog.   It's coming from one of your hydration packs.  What do you do?  Here's what I did.

FUCKKKK

That's Why: The Absence of Expectation

runners of all walks of life are often asked this one question by non-runners, which, while simple and only constructed of a few words, begs a thinking process tantamount to answering an Epistemology course exam question.   it's worse for ultrarunners as, to most pedestrian spectators, we're appearing to be half-assedly attempting suicide, or at least slightly deranged. 

"why do you run?"

simple, reasonable answers exist for this question.  
"i want to live longer."
"it is a perfect metaphor for self-improvement."
"FOR THE BLING-BLING!"
 "yoga is hard."

however,  few realize that the wide range of responses applicable to this question actually forms a bigger, more fundamental reason for why you run.  the problem is that this reason does not manifest itself through words but only appears as a mild sensation while you're running.  henceforth--the more tangible an answer becomes, the harder it is to put it into sentences.  

in this eleventy-bajillion part feature, I will attempt to put my spin into the runner's search for meaning.  as noted, the resulting draft of a runner's rambling manifesto will be guaranteed to DNF.  each post will connect to a previous post in some manner, forming a giant puzzle of indeterminate size and product.  however--i hope this sisyphean endeavor will help you find a more purposeful consciousness to your running regime.  enjoy.

So That I Can Remember: Rockwall with nearly bloomed wildflowers but no larches yet

So That I Can Remember: Iceline in the Dead of Summer

Really Bad Running Advice: Shut it down; dealbreaker?

Dear Leo,

I recently participated in a speed dating event (no pun intended).  I found that most of the questions I asked the ladies was to ascertain whether or not they would be any good as a crew, pacer, chaffeur, or race volunteer--instead of the usual dreams/hopes/aspirations bullshit.  Is there something wrong with me?

Yours truly,

Forrest Lovepain

So That I Can Remember: Moose in August