Words by Kerryn Krige | I stopped racing in 2010, when I asked myself the question – WHY am I DOING This? – as my last toenail detached itself from my foot after another crazy, long distance venture. Since then, I’ve hovered on the sidelines of AR, unable to answer the question but also not able to remove myself completely from the sport.
Sitting at EA HQ has helped get to some sort of resolution. Watching teams go round in circles at night, determined to move forward and in doing so moving backwards is weirdly, an answer. Because when people cross the finish line, its not wild euphoria or dramatic Hollywood tears that you see but instead a quiet sense of deep achievement that I haven’t experienced anywhere else. Not in the corporate world as people hustle up a career ladder, and certainly not in one-discipline sports, or longer stage races.
There is something in being able to keep moving forward, and then be able to take the decision to stop as Team Powerbar Swiss Explorer had to do. You have to balance your competitive need-to-get-to-the-finish-as-fast-as-possible thinking, with a very deep need to sleep, relax and switch off which is not what you’re there to do. Its this ability to think through contradiction that makes adventure racing make sense.
This is evident in the comments of teams at the finish line which, when you’re sitting in HQ, you get to see fairly clearly. Everyone struggles – the winning and the last teams. And they all struggle with things they can’t predict – in this race it was the change in temperature, the inability to get into a rhythm because of those endless undulating hills, the hypothermia many have spoken about in the canyon. But these are never described in hushed voices of fear and drama. Instead there’s a gritty humour, and a matter-of-fact tone that underpins the storytelling – especially from the teams who have every reason to be dramatic. Those that have been out for days, got lost, missed their mental deadlines, didn’t know each other well, even those experiencing their first race – they all have this practical, wry approach to difficulty .
I think they’ve mastered the focus on the journey not the destination. They are able to take lessons from the gritty, hard periods and hold onto the warm glow when things are going well, They are essentially problem solving wildly out of their comfort zone, trying to make sense of a world with just a map, compass, some technical outdoor wear and your team mates.
And in this complexity is the secret ingredient of achievement, that other sports don’t have. It’s not about being great at the technical skills of mountain biking, trail running, canyoning, rafting and any other discipline a Race Director throws at you. The complexity is that the achievement of crossing the finish line is both an individual one and a collective one. The teams that cross the finish line with jokes in hand, able to laugh at their mishaps have mastered something that day-to-day life doesn’t often teach us.
And this is why its worth sacrificing toe-nails, sleep, family and wine time for Adventure Racing. All the teams that I saw, seem to have found a predictability in the unpredictable. They can navigate the mental and physical meltdowns that go with steadily moving forward in the dark and cold, when you’re actually moving in circles and backwards.
It’s the height of contradiction but it makes each toneail lost, each rib cracked, each blister popped, completely worth it.
Kerryn
Photo by Bruce Viaene