Shanghai Running Magazine Volume 3 | Page 15

I Learned About
Running From That
by Ray Heraty
In addition to not being very good at
running, I have lots of other hobbies
that I’m equally not good at. One of
these is videography, or as it’s known
by those forced to watch, home movies. It was only a matter of time until
my two hobby lives crossed paths
and so over the last year I’ve made
several movies about running. My
first real effort, about Shanghai running founder Nourredine Sahibi’s epic
effort at Leadville last year has been
modestly popular on Youtube and
has had the unfortunate side effect of

egging me on to make more running
themed movies.
Technology has aided this effort as
cameras are lighter and smaller than
ever. I have a cellphone that has a
decent video camera built in and I
also own a GoPro 3, an absolutely
wonderful and tiny full HD camera
that is light enough to carry on pretty
much any run. I decided to try to
capture the atmosphere and spirit of
the recent Ultra Trail Mt Fuji, a 168km
jog around said mountain.
At the start line I realized my GoPro
was out of power leaving me only
with my cell phone camera. I didn’t
get a whole lot of useable footage
from the race but I do have one
memorable clip that I’ve watched a
few times. Let me describe it to you.
I’m sitting somewhere on the slopes
of Mount Kenashi, the highest peak in
the Tenshi Mountains, by far the most

brutally soul crushing, leg mangling,
runner destroying section of the race.
This is a 15 km section, described by
elite ultra-runner Nick Clark as the
toughest part of ANY race he has
experienced, a section that takes the
average plodder like myself, about 7
hours to complete (for 15km!).
Anyway, I’m sitting one the side of
the trail somewhere in this section, a
white Tera Tera Bozu (Japanese ghost
doll) visible over my right shoulder.
And this is what I say: “Future Ray,
listen to me! These ultra-races are a
terrible idea. Do not, I repeat, do not
sign up for any more of these races
under any circumstances. They are
not fun, they are hours and hours of
absolute misery! Don’t do it! Heed
my warning!”
Naturally, less than four weeks later,
I’m thinking about why I chose to
ignore this very precise, very clear advice given by someone whom I trust
absolutely (me!). I’m thinking about
it while completely dehydrated, no
longer able to flex my quad muscles
about 7 miles from the finish of the
Kettle 100, a relatively easy 100 mile
race in rural Wisconsin. At least it
would have been easy had it not been
30 degrees celcius by 9am.
Sure, this race was fun for a while
despite the hot weather and the
extensive sections of shad less open
prairie, but it isn’t fun anymore. It
stopped being fun right about the
time I threw up on one of my crew
members an aid station or three ago
(this time captured on camera live in
glorious HD). Really it was her fault
– she hadn’t
made me drink
enough water
during the preceding 12 hours
leading to the
state I’m in now.
I’m so dehydrated it takes me
18 minutes to
chew and swallow one jelly
bean (I know

© Shanghai Running 2014

this because my pacer is making me
eat every 15 minutes but when he
hands me one on schedule, I’m still
working on the jelly bean he gave me
previously and I have to explain that
my mouth is full).
My pacer and I are joined by another
running, Jeff, who’s headlight battery
has run out and he’s forced to hobble
to the finish with me. An experienced hundred miler, he’s remarkably
in almost exactly as bad a shape as
I am. He too is totally dehydrated – unable to bend his knees, and
mentally cursing every step. He has
signed up for the Midwest Grand
Slam, four 100 mile races in 8 weeks
across the central US, and wonders
what insanity prompted him to engage in such deluded fantasy. Right
now, like me, he’s wondering why we
can’t be happy running 10ks or perhaps taking up recreational chess.
Runners all have bad days whether at
the track or on the treadmill or the
trail no matter the distance or speed.
I remember the first time I went
for a run. I could barely run a block
without my chest burning so hard I
thought it would explode. How did I
ever get over that? Those early runs
were so hideously difficult and painful but somehow you get through it
and get to a point where you can run
2k, then 5 and 10 and so on. I think
that’s what makes a runner though.
It’s not how far you run or how fast
you run, it’s that you keep coming
back for more. More of the good and
plenty more of the bad.
On the trail Jeff and I are hating life.

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