
Running on the Sun
I remember when first watching
Running on the Sun, how fascinated I was about Badwater. The thought of running (or travelling by foot) over 135 miles through some of the toughest extremes on earth was mind blowing. It sort of opened my eyes to how far people can really take their ability to run long distances. To me, at the time, Badwater represented a type of epitome of long distance running.
I remember describing the documentary to my wife, who has no interest in anything running related. While trying to pique her interest enough to get her to watch the documentary with me, she interrupted me mid sentence and asked “Herb, you’re not planning to do this are you?”
I laughed. My immediate thought and response to her was, “Are you crazy? No way! I have absolutely no desire.” And I meant it. The thought was ridiculous. This type of thing is not for me. The training would be more than what I would be willing to do, nor could I afford the time needed for this. Plus, I the monetary costs are ridiculous. Nearly $900 just to enter, plus there are costs for yourself and your support crew regarding travel, lodging, meals, and equipment for carrying out the race.
Nah, no way! What the hell for? I promised her never.
When I found Tony, who has already done Badwater once by the time I met him, I was somewhat in awe that someone who lived right in my neighborhood has done this race. Eventually, this led to an opportunity for me to crew for him on his second attempt. The three of you or so who read my blog on a regular basis already know that I’ve just recently returned from this adventure and have not yet fully wrote about the details. And I won’t yet be delving into them in this post either, but I’ll probably spread it over a series of posts as soon as I figure out what to focus on.
Well, what’s the point of this post then? I’ll get to that shortly.
Whenever I made mention of the fact I would be crewing Badwater, people joked about how I would be running it next. I always dismissed it. Others who were crewing alongside me were mostly crewing because they had plans to do the race in the future. It is well known that crewing increases your chances of getting accepted when applying. I repeated many times out there when asked by others that I had no plans to do the race.

Jack Deness and his better half.
I want to be like him when I grow up.
Well, perhaps when I grow up, I might want to be like Jack. He was doing Badwater for the 12th time when I was there. Maybe when I’m his age I’ll give it some consideration.
Since I’ve returned, I learned Badwater is different from what I imagined.
Not necessarily better, not necessarily worse. Just different and not quite what the documentaries capture. The best way I can sum it up is the fact that the event is even more bizarre than I imagined. There are things I learned about some of the people doing the race, and what they’re doing in addition to the race that blows me away. It’s also a lot of work and a lot of suffering for everyone involved. In some ways, I was truly turned off by it. In other ways, I’m left in awe and admiration. I’ll save these details for another time when I can truly delve into them.
Since returning, I’ve also found myself thinking more and more about Badwater. I’ve imagined myself running parts of the course that I covered pacing, as if I was racing it. I’ve caught myself fantasizing about this and fantasizing about returning to Death Valley. Thinking about it while doing my long run. Imagining what I would have to do to prepare if I were running Badwater. I’m convinced I am capable of running this race and I almost want to try.
But, I really don’t.
In fact, I’m quite conflicted about ultras in general at the moment. Right now, I have no desire to go beyond 50 miles. I know I could go past 50. I know if I wanted to, I could do a 100. Sure, it’s easier said than done, but to simply cover the distance, I’m confident I can do that.
But, I learned something during my first and only attempt at running 50 miles. I learned I don’t want to walk these races. I learned this when I was forced to walk because I went out too fast and hit the wall after 30 miles. Most of all, I learned there’s a difference between being able to cover 50, or 100, or 135 miles, and being trained to run over these distances. If I do this, I’m going to be doing the latter.
I also felt this way about running the marathon before I did one.
Currently, the marathon is a distance I love. For me it’s the furthest distance I’m currently trained to race right now. It happens to be and oddball arbitrary distance – 26.2 miles, but it’s also a standard race distance. With the marathon, I can feel the adrenaline pumping as I think about it. It’s the same adrenaline rush I get when I think about other race distances from the 5K to a half marathon. A 50K, however, could fulfill the same joys and self-satisfaction for me as the marathon does. I feel I could prepare myself to race a 50K.

Is that mile 50?
Meanwhile, thoughts of a 50 mile dredges up the thoughts of a tortoise. Slow and steady. This is because I’m not capable of doing a 50 miler any other way right now. And this isn’t a slight against those who run slower than I do. Actual speed is relative to the person who’s doing the running.

Weston the Pedestrian
The Father of Modern Pedestrianism
Ultramarathons and
Pedestrianism have close ties. I realize there is a lot of walking that is done in this genre. I don’t judge anyone who walks in a race, but I figure, if I am going to say I am running a race, regardless of the distance, the majority of the distance should be covered by running.
When I am walking, or when I’m forced to walk, I don’t get that same rush and feelings of exertion that I crave which I get from running. I know I will be alienating other’s who are part of the ultra genre, and I don’t mean to. But, walking it is just not for me. It becomes almost a different sport.
When trying to discuss this with someone at Badwater, who just did his first and only 100, with a couple of 50’s sprinkled in, he explained to me with a smile on his face that I just didn’t have enough patience for an ultra. He walked the majority of his miles in his ultras, and I have no doubt he’ll walk his Badwater race if he ever does it.
What he doesn’t realize, and what I saw no point in explaining to him, is that there’s much more to be accomplished than just completing a distance. He seemed too satisfied with himself for me to bother.
Jumping into a 100 before I feel I know how to run a 50 is just not enough of an accomplishment for me. Going further than 50 right now would be premature. It would be faking it for me. Sure, I could do it and get away with it. But, what would I be proving?
So, my desire to shy away from ultras is not about my lack of patience for the longer distances. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. For me, it’s a deeper exercise in patience to truly learn the shorter distance(s) and how to pace it right to get my best time running, rather than slogging through it at a walking pace to just complete it. It’s just the kind of runner I am. The way I want to run. Again, I don’t judge him for how he chooses to run his ultras, or anyone else, but I’d rather not walk before learning to run.
So, I’ll do a 100 one day. Hell, I might actually even do Badwater for real. But first I want to race a 50. But not before I get tired of my love affair with the marathon. Sub 3 first!