Why.

If you’ve known me for any length of time, it may come as a surprise to learn that I have no inherent self-esteem, really. My base point is actually subterranean, likely as the aftermath of childhood bullying from a venomous selection of mean girls – that old weloveyounowwehateyouokmaybelovenohatesorrynotsorry chestnut. I thought it would ease with time but alas some things stick more than others, like chalk sludge from a waterlogged ancient Roman road.

When I was a kid, I got around this problem by dancing and performing on stage. I was a reasonably talented dancer and choreographer and the applause always made me feel as if I’d done something terribly important. Who knows, maybe it was important? I made some people feel good. I helped others chase and capture dreams. And I elevated my own soul at the same time. It all seemed so simple. But the day I stopped performing, that confidence disappeared. It took an awfully long time to completely disintegrate, but there came a day I noticed its total absence, and it was bloody loud.

My father’s passing in 2013 brought with it that gift of the motivation to go do something else important in recognition of what his contribution gave to me as a person, to remember him properly, to honour the support he’d always given to me with that other love – dance. Following that ever so important cancer charity 10k, I took up running with a fervour, never intending for it to go as far as it has in shaping me. But eleven years later, it certainly has a lot to answer for.

Running has long since restored the confidence I’d lost when dance disappeared from my day to day. Tackling and overcoming one challenge after another, resolving injuries, finding problems and seeking and applying solutions, fixing failures, having an incredible support network of likeminded nutters. It’s been a salve and a shower and a therapy and a spiritual awakening all at once. How deeply can you say you’ve ever looked inside your own soul if you’ve never pushed yourself to the edge of your own capability? How much further could you see if you only had the courage to take one more step? How far can you go? Really?

Why haven’t you tried?

Read this later. Go.

___

Welcome back.

Running success had always kept my confidence high, but it became actually life-affirming as I grew more conscious of the lack of close and immediate reinforcement for my efforts from within my home environment. I’ll not delve into that further here, but know that running and all that’s come with it has entirely kept me breathing for a decade.

When I first had a go at the Ridgeway 86 four years ago, I was truly on a high – strong, confident, well trained, and duly inspired by some of my running heroes. I knew I could do it because I believed I could do it – it was that simple. I finished things. I never turned away from a challenge but just dug deep, grit my teeth and waggled my fingers at it like Bruce Lee setting himself up to kick someone's arse. One thing I am sure of is that I’ve always had a deeper well of determination than many, and I’d long since proven to myself I could dunk my cup into that well over and over and over again, as long as it took, until I was satiated and the job was done.

So when that cup scraped rock and came up empty, the only thing I could do was to go back in search of water again, and again, until I was no longer thirsty.

But that failure.

And the second.

And the third.

And all the trials scattered throughout.

Imagine, now knowing what you know – just imagine – how damaging that’s been to my head game. To my soul. To my fire. To my confidence. Because remember, that confidence is base point sub-zero in the absence of success.

How could I possibly not go back until it was done? Whatever it took? Especially right now?

I realised late in the third R86 failure that my desire had shifted and to just complete the route on my own terms would refill the well completely. It wasn’t so much due to an inability to train effectively and race the route within the time limit (I still 100% believe I can do that if I wanted to and had reasonably better luck(!) in the lead up) but it occurred to me, sat in a camp chair in the dark, halfway through Grim’s Ditch, with my legs shaking as if I’d never run a step, that I’d been giving all my power over to this external entity with its arbitrary cutoff times, and its focus on all those things that promote speed over will, that celebrate pace, strength and might over inherent grit and determination…

I could go on. But, as you see, I couldn’t go on.

Because these things can surely only be allowed to matter so much when you’re brimming with confidence, but once they become the modern day recollection of a mean girl snowball to the side of the head, in the form of your pride stomped on by an unnecessary, babysitting sweeper who didn’t know this kind of effort and endurance from a bar of soap, well, why should I continue to give my soul over to that kind of kryptonite? Why should I hand over the actual source of my inner fire to that kind of arbitrary shit sat entirely outside my control, when all I needed to do in order to re-light it was to power myself end to end across that trail, for as long as it took me to do it, in the manner in which I chose, to finish it once and for all?

Why indeed? There was absolutely zero doubt in my mind I could do it that way. So I went back.

Of course I went back.

(1 / x)

Prologue: https://madmaxruns.blogspot.com/2024/04/in-search-of-inner-greatness.html

Part 1: https://madmaxruns.blogspot.com/2024/04/why.html

Part 2: https://madmaxruns.blogspot.com/2024/04/when-adversity-comes-calling.html

Part 3: https://madmaxruns.blogspot.com/2024/04/once-more-unto-breach-dear-friends-once.html

Part 4: https://madmaxruns.blogspot.com/2024/04/dream-big.html

Part 5: https://madmaxruns.blogspot.com/2024/04/the-big-chill.html

Part 6: https://madmaxruns.blogspot.com/2024/04/let-it-begin.html

Part 7: https://madmaxruns.blogspot.com/2024/04/keeping-faith.html

Part 8: https://madmaxruns.blogspot.com/2024/04/breaking-levee.html