This article first appeared in issue #1 of Like the Wind. Words by Robbie Britton.
I run trails for the mountains, the wildlife and solitude. I run through the countryside during the spring for the lambs, the flowers and the smell of horse manure. I run at night for the moonlight, the stars and the harassment from drunks. I train on Clapham Common for the antipodean accents and the constant traffic. I race on 400m tracks because I love going round in circles for 24 hours, not getting lost and never being more than 200m from a toilet.
Something I hear all too often from the top ultra runners in the UK, the States and elsewhere is that it is the love of the mountains that keeps them at their best. While a beautiful setting may get you out on your run, it is not something that is going to push you to the extent of your ability. You don’t push yourself harder physically and mentally – using tough training schedules – if you’re not a competitive person. A fiercely competitive person.
Every single day is a series of competitions for me, whether that means breaking my cornflake-eating record (a 500g box in just under eight minutes), taking a few seconds off a training run PB or reading another page of Lore of Running (it has taken me three years to get to page six. I may be a strange individual, but don’t you have to be if your aim is to be among the best in the world at something? Cornflake eating, that is.
If you really want to enjoy the great outdoors, spend time in the mountains and see wildlife, why not become a ski-lift attendant, a fire- watcher or a botanist? You’ll get what you love in abundance and actually be able to enjoy it without having to suffer through it while you’re racing down a trail. Ultra running isn’t an easy way to see the mountains – a helicopter is.
I was racing out in Greece recently on terrain that was 90% road. The trail bit came during the middle of the night. My race wasn’t going to plan: there was a lot of vomit, probably not enough salt and my somewhat ambitious aims were cascading, rather than slipping, from my grasp. Around 30 hours into this trail of vomit from Athens to Sparta, my mum shouted: “Rob, at least you have these beautiful mountains to look at,” as I crawled along a Spartan motorway. I looked up and saw this wonderful panorama of sun-kissed mountains and I honestly did not know that it was there. I was so caught up in my race – on getting to that finish line and staying ahead of James Elson – that I did not even appreciate how lucky I was at that moment in time. Then I put my head back down, fixed my eyes on the tarmac in front of me and got on with it.
I got to look at all those mountains the day after on the bus back to Athens. I had the slight issue of a 153-mile race to deal with and all that mattered at the time was getting to the foot of Leonidas.
I have a lot of time for the mountains, the trails and nature, but they’re not the reason I’m an ultra-runner. I’m an ultra-runner because I want to prove what I can do, to push myself further than I have ever been pushed before and to seek that point at which my mind and body can give no more, collapse and expire at the end of the perfect race.
Training and being in the peaks will push your trail running like nothing you can imagine and the top guys are all running to the hills, be it in Chamonix, Boulder or Ambleside. These are all beautiful and inspiring places – places to keep your running mojo alive – but you need that drive, that desire to get yourself to the top, to be able to succeed in any sport.
Watching a video of Kilian Jornet – a name synonymous with the mountains and ultra running – recently, I was pleased to see a man who thrives on competition, who gets fidgety with it and who has used this to become one of the greatest mountain runners of all time. Yes, he loves the mountains (and descends quicker than I could fall off a cliff), but he still races to beat records, trains to beat competitors and excels to new heights because of this. It may not be cool, but I run to compete. That is what drives me, what pushes me on my mile reps and drives me to the top of mountains. If I’m racing, I’m not even going to stop to admire the view.
I can do that some other time.
Robbie Britton is a Team GB ultra marathon runner, ultra marathon coach and cheeky chappy. Instagram: @ultrabritton