Hi there,

I have a fuller blog post coming your way early next week, along with a short series to introduce my new space! I am so excited to introduce this to you :) But, before sending it, I wanted to address this swirl of thoughts that has kept popping up in my mind these past weeks…

See, in the last weeks of summer - after finishing the 100 miler - I found that there was one question/comment that kept popping up.

It came in two different flavors:

One, a consistent point to the fact that completing an event of this magnitude must require so much mental capacity. That is, being able to run 100 miles must require such a strong power of the mind to continue to direct attention and forward movement, right?

Well, of course! To be able to continue onward and onward and onward, for hours and hours after my body has already met a reasonable limit - the ability to put my attention where it needed to be is essential.

Without this strong mental component, no one is running that far.

But it is only one part, and this is the key here. Although, before jumping into that, let’s bring in that second flavor of this comment.

This one arose as one clear statement:

Wow, to be able to complete 100 miles, you must be so good at ignoring pain - shoving it down as you force your way forward to the goal.

That one jolted me, only because it was so far from the mark.

I know it is a common thread among runners to rest fully in their minds as they push back against pain, doing their best to ignore it as they stay intent on one clear goal. I, myself, experienced this back in the days when I raced half marathons - an experience that often did require an overwhelming ability to shut out cardiovascular distress and stay focused on pushing forward with everything I had.

However, when it comes to running 100 miles, I have found that the process requires quite the opposite.

Running 100 miles is guaranteed to bring with it a whole lot of pain. And, that pain will bring with it a great level of suffering. But that pain also brings important information that is needed along the journey, and if one is to actually complete that insane distance, then any and all information that reveals anything about the physical state of the body is welcome.

This means that the journey - at least for me - is never about shoving that pain away.

Instead, the practice is quite different: to feel that pain, and to get to know it. To recognize it for what it is, and to continue to make decisions with the fullness of it taken into consideration:

• Is this something that is offering helpful information?
• Is this something I can handle as I keep moving forward?
• Or, is this something that I need to pay greater attention to, and perhaps even hold off on moving forward until I can be sure that it isn’t something serious?

Fortunately for me, back in the days of running shorter distances, I got away with ignoring pains and pushing through serious distress.

However, when it came time to increase the mileage and begin my journeys as an ultra runner, this approach quickly broke me, and the injuries that resulted have yet to fully heal.

I never want to repeat those mistakes.

I now know the seriousness that is listening intently to all of the signals coming from my body, and even though pain will inevitably arise, the game has become a dance in which I push myself forward and listen in return.

There have been many runs in these recent years during which I have received information that sent me home:

• Serious stomach distress
• A strong layer fatigue that doesn’t let up
• Sharp pains in my knees or ankles

I was fortunate to run a 100 miler filled without pain of this sort, and to only deal with the kind that brought with it useful bouts of information:

• That pain in my stomach - it is telling me to pause for a few moments to let it pass; but, otherwise, all is well.
• That pain in my lower legs - it is telling me my legs are fatigued and unstable and I need to travel extra carefully through this technical terrain.
• That pain at the bottom of my feet - yes, I hear you, and forgive me for what I am putting you through; but, I made a decision to do this, and I know we can do this.

I continue to make the decision to push myself in this rather extreme arena, and I do so for many reasons I’ve discussed in depth other places (the beauty, the magic, the fulfillment - just to name a few).

One bonus - as I see it - is the continual development of a skill that is more deeply understanding how my body communicates with me.

I say it's a bonus because, of course, there are other, far gentler ways to develop this skill: yoga, being my number 1 recommendation!

And I do encourage us all to find some way to develop this ability to listen intently to our full selves; and, yes, that includes being able to understand what unpleasant or even painful signals have to say.

Often times, we receive signals that tell us that something isn’t okay; yet, we continue onward, our minds directing us towards what we have come to believe is more important.

I experienced this the other day when I went out to run through the mountains, feeling fine except for a bit of a lingering cough. As I ran, the cough grew, and as I kept taking steps, the message became very clear: go home. But I was desperately hoping for an enjoyable few days out in the mountains, so I kept pushing onward; in turn, the cough grew, and ended up taking me out for 2 weeks.

I recognize that many may perceive this as a frivolous case, but how many times have we all done something similar:

- Shown up to work and stayed there even when our bodies are sending clear signals that we are not well

- Sat down and ate a meal that our bodies are rebelling against

- Stayed in a relationship, job, or other sort of space that our bodies were telling us to get out of

Once upon a time, I lived life fully in my head - moving through each experience making calculated decisions. Sometimes this served me, but other times, had I only taken a few moments to tap into the vast amount of intelligence trying desperately to make its way to my conscious attention through the incredibly intelligent pathways of my human body... had I only taken a few moments to listen, to let it in, and to let it move me in the best direction, then perhaps many of these wounds that I deal with today would not have been cut.

Taking embodied living into a deeper realm

It’s this sort of ability to discern what pain (and other bodily signals) are telling me that I find to be a valuable piece of the ultrarunning experience. Tied into the spectacular scenery, the sense of achievement, happy endorphins, and all the other wonderful parts of the experience, I also get to learn how to more fully understand what my body is communicating on a moment-to-moment basis.

And I have found that this skill is invaluable when it comes to living life.

After running 100 miles, I found myself in another opportunity to listen deeply into the signals that my body was sending me. After climbing so high - basking in the illuminous rays that come with an achievement of this magnitude - I found myself falling deep into my own pit of despair - deep down where I was once again asked to listen in and discern what to do with the complex mix of pain and other sensations that I had been carrying.

At this point, I have learned many lessons, and I know that when these unpleasant experiences come forth, the ask is not to run away from it or push it down.

But instead, to be with it.

To be with the anger and grief that arises and takes over.

To sit with it all and discern what needs to be changed, what opportunities it is time to grasp, and what is ready to be let go of.

As we move forward through life, there will always be opportunity to listen in more deeply:

To know what is too much and needs to be changed.

To know what can’t be fixed and will be part of the journey forward.

And, most importantly, to recognize which path forward will lead us to where we want to go.

In case you've been wondering, that's what it's all about out here, #ChasingUpwardSlopes

Cheers,

Katie