Exert myself physically? No thanks!
When I first heard about ultramarathons (as run by favourite author Haruki Murakami) I thought that was it. I’d found the sporting event in which I’d least like to partake. After all, I’d find it difficult to summon up the motivation to run away from a burning building and that’s with mortal fear spurring me on. The idea of running 100km at all – let alone in one day – is just about enough to put me off ever leaving my sofa again. But today I discovered a race I’d like to participate in even less: the Death Race.
The Death Race is an uber-assault course which takes place in Vermont. Name aside, with a website address like youmaydie.com and a waiver to sign stating the same, you know you’re in for some hardcore physical activity. Tasks have to be completed within 24 hours and can range from chopping logs to help out a local farmer, to crawling through barbed wire and stinging nettles for the fun of it. But that’s not all; there’s a psychological beating to take too. Mind games and memory tests run alongside the harrowing physical trials to make it the ultimate in unpleasant experiences.
I have no idea what it is that makes people ready and willing to take up a challenge like that. I mean, I could give it a good guess – for the glory, a bet or even just to see if you can – but I’ll never know that strength of feeling that actually compels you to sign up, train up and show up. It’s not that I don’t trust my body to crack on and get the job done (after some fairly hefty training since I’m the least-fit person I know), it’s the fact that I just don’t want to.
I can sort of see why you would do it – in the same way that that I can appreciate how amazing it would be to conquer a mountain, trek across a dessert or jump out of a plane – but I know I’ll never get my head or my heart into the right place to actually physically commit to it. And should the unimaginable occur and you find me giving it a go, I’d be the character in the film that succumbs to failure first. Yep, it’s a pretty depressing thing to admit that if you were in Jurassic Park you’d be the guy who gets eaten whilst hiding in the toilets, but that’s me.
So I’m pretty much in awe of anyone who takes part in the Death Race. Regardless of how far you get and how fast, to simply get yourself there is feat enough for me. Kudos indeed to anyone who makes it all the way through without giving up – mega kudos to those who complete the course in the allotted timeframe. But awe-filled hat tips to all those who set out and fall short; I might not be able to feel your motivation but I can certainly feel your pain.
Read ‘Accidental adventurer’ from the Guardian’s Sport Magazine for insights from this year’s joint-winner.
