The title of this Substack is meant to be ironic. It is also meant to be an important reminder to myself. That my habit of over-explaining myself is actually a trauma response, a personality characteristic born from maladaptation. It is an incredibly hard habit to break. I started this behavior as a very young child because I was frequently told “you are XYZ” when I felt and knew, “actually, I am ABC”. I thought that if I just explained myself better and more thoroughly then I would be understood. But this never turned out to be the case when faced with people who had already decided who I was. For years, I would just try harder to make those individuals understand. This persisted throughout my life despite effortful attempts to stop. If I stop, it means that I have to be comfortable with people misunderstanding and telling me who I am. But the reality is, the way people characterize us or the stories they tell about other people, are more of a reflection on them, then they are on you. I know that I am a kind, loving, compassionate, giving person. I know that I am spicy and feel all my emotions. I know that I have gone through hell and back a million times in my life and that I have never been perfect at handling things that no person should ever have to handle. But I know how hard I have tried. To not lose myself, to figure out a way out of the darkness and find my way back to myself. I know that the people who most often try and tell me who I am, have made the least amount of attempts to actually know me.
In the last few years, I have found that the sport of ultrarunning has continually touched a nerve because I do not feel well understood. I have people who characterize my whole existence as a runner, based on one race experience and steadfastly refuse to consider that 1) that might have been an abberation or 2) they might not know the whole story (ding, ding we have a winner there) or 3) I could have possibly changed over the past 10 years. It has just felt exhausting trying to be seen as I really am when people who do not know me are the ones telling my story. I have spent a lot of energy trying to change perceptions that were never of my own making, that I didn’t participate in creating.
One of the biggest gifts of taking time this past year to get my health in order is that I have been able to separate myself from the sport. Or at least from the social media/commentary/discussion eco-system. I have moved to the periphery and observed more objectively that I have no interest in being at the center of the sport. Interestingly, I look to people like Courtney or Katie or Jim, who do not actively participate in the drama of the sport as my guidance. They do not spend time on all the superfluous crap and commentary and stuff in the sport. They focus on their running. They let their running do the talking. I have done a lot for this sport in my 19 years and I hope to continue to have an impact, but I am moving towards the model of “say less”. I don’t want to fear people’s opinions any longer, I don’t want to be guided by trying to make people like or understand me. I want to be guided by the passion and enjoyment I have for running. I want to be guided by the values I hold of courage, compassion and contribution. I want to continue to do good and serve others as I have for my entire life, but without the dangling hope that it might be seen or acknowledged. I know everything I have done in this life. I know how much good I have done. I am not perfect or flawless, but I know I don’t need to be.
We are in an era of the sport of rapid change and growth, which is amazing. We are also in an era where screaming the loudest on the internet about your ideas is a thing. This means that there are a lot of people who are taking old concepts and repackaging them as new ideas. As someone who has been in the sport a long time, I often find it annoying and amusing how often people take credit for things that have been around for decades. It has been interesting to witness running fast/short and running on the roads come back into vogue. I have joked to friends, “oh look, half of my career is valid again!” Because other people have decided that running a fast marathon or having 5km speed is worthwhile. I have found myself yelling at my phone reading posts about these things, shaking my fist at the fact that our sport seems to have really bad amnesia. We just have a really hard time remembering and respecting the past. I’ve gotten fired up more than once about the “you have to be fast to win ultras” narrative. I want to scream NO DUH! Why do you think I’ve trained this way for years?!? 10, 12, 15, 20 years ago those at the top of the sport were running fast and doing marathons, road ultras and trails. Ann Trason ran many fast marathons including the Olympic Trials. She also ran a sub 6 hr Comrades. Ellie Greenwood crushed the Vancouver marathon just a few weeks before she podiumed at Comrades and then won WS in CR time.
But instead of letting myself get caught up or infuriated by this, I have had in the past, I have decided to let it go. It is not my job to correct people who willfully ignore history. It is not my job to do battle against the gatekeepers, cool-kids and story tellers of the sport. Instead, I can just find it amusing. Amusing in the way that I have now come to find other people’s misguided opinions of me. I look at it like fairytales or fantasy. Isn’t it cute that that person thinks they invented running fast for ultrarunning? Isn’t it nice that this year road ultras are getting a moment of respect? I can finally step back and chuckle a bit about how ridiculous it all is. How much we all flounder about searching for our worthiness and validation. Instead of being caught up and triggered by this current era, I have used it as a tool for growth. I’ve watched and witnessed those feelings come up and then considered why I feel this way. I’ve sat with those feelings and learned. And I’ve let them go. I can step away and realize that feeling pissed off at the sport doesn’t serve me at all. And that it is not my job to make everyone or anyone understand. I can simply say less and focus on my own experience. I can quiet the noise and give it less space. I can put my energy where I want to and that is on continuing to love running and racing and showing up in the world as my authentic self.
Devon, it'll be 18 years ago in early February when I first saw you run, at the Jed Smith Ultras at Gibson Ranch -- I've told you this story before, how you lapped me a couple of times as you ran the 50K that day and I was running the 50M. It was obvious then, and remains true today, that you truly are a singular presence -- as a runner, as a thinker, as a human being. Whatever you have to say, whether it's less or more, is always extremely meaningful. Thanks, as always, for sharing, and know that I couldn't agree more with how everything that seems "new" today also feels awfully familiar for those who have been around for a while. Olga King pretty much nails it with her comment to you here -- "Keep doing your thing." And thanks for always doing your thing.
Absolute Preaching!! Thanks for writing this. Couldn’t define more exactly how I feel about the trajectory of the running world now being apart of it for 15 years here in Scotland. Major resonation with this. Just turning down all the noise around and opens up a whole new view on the world again!