Two years ago today I ran my first (and only) ultra trail race at the Sulphur Springs 50km in Ancaster, Ontario. The first half of the race felt amazing. I’d done the training and I mean, I was flying. I even felt good until after the massive hill around the 29km mark…
Then, at the 30km turn-around I realized I was in trouble. As I headed back down the hill a woman I’d been keying off for much of the race pulled away, gradually out of sight. (She’d eventually beat me by over 25 mins.) I wanted badly to go with her. Alas, the wheels came off.
It’s an interesting feeling to be engaged in an activity where your mind and body are at odds. My body was screaming at me to chill. My mind wanted a sprint. The compromise was that I didn’t stop running and was able to stay in the top 30% of the field. If my body had its way, I’d have quit. If my mind had its way, I’d have been up at the front, challenging the eventual winner, my friend and then coach Andrew Yorke.
Part of the reason I got serious about running again in 2017 was to set an example for my oldest son, Sam. I want to live a long life and be healthy, and for him to share those values too. I also think a sport like running is the best way for a younger person to get the benefits of being competitive with yourself. Your hard work is 100% geared towards bettering yourself, and you get very objective measurements of your progress. In other words, you get out of it what you put in. No B.S.
That’s also why I love poker. In both running and poker, it’s hard for a parent, coworker, boss, coach or official to derail you. And no matter how big or small your wins are, they’re yours incorruptibly.
I’ll remember for the rest of my life the day I ran my best 400m and was told at the finish it was a 52.2s. Not amazing. I’m not an amazing runner and I didn’t have coaching. But my father was finally proud of me which meant a lot. I’d narrowly beaten his best. What’s mattered most though is that I know what I put into it for myself.
Reflecting on being 23 and standing in some parking lot alone at 3 AM, having just won $1,800 after playing poker for 40 hours straight because the game was too good to quit, because I knew I could still beat them, and because I wanted my money back after being down $3,800, I get the exact same feeling.
To those who would say sports like running are unproductive or self-indulgent, or that poker is too capitalistic, that these types of pursuits do not add any value to society (a stance I even had myself in the past), I say: close, but no cigar.
Their value is in that they provide an impartial playing field. The runners and poker players I’ve known who actually put in the work are great people. Even poker players, despite a reputation as degenerates, are reliable and aspire to live good lives and be good people, to help others, and to teach others how to win, too.
Even if we replace our culture of sports or gambling with something new (eg. video games), the spirit of these will remain, as it propels something deeply human which I believe was crucial to us separating ourselves from the apes: a focus on the development of elemental skills in a controlled competitive environment.