Ultra competitive?
What is 'plucky', and what is a healthy amount of competition in your ultra runner’s mindset?
In a short, fast race everyone is your enemy - it matters if you can get five yards ahead of them. Whereas in an ultra, everyone is your friend…
I don’t think of myself as a particularly competitive person. Although, full disclosure, when I said this once to a group of friends, more than half of them laughed.
I’ve been a keen ultra runner for over five years now, and I suppose a certain amount of competitiveness is part of what drives that behaviour. I do like testing myself and taking on challenges.
If I were asked whether I’d rather finish further up the field in a race, or behind I know what I’d say. But doesn’t everyone say they would rather be ahead? Perhaps the real question is, how much does your finish position, or time matter to you? Is it the main thing that matters, or is it icing on the cake?
I certainly know some very competitive people. People who have quit a race, not due to injury, but because their finishing time or position wasn’t going to be as good as they had hoped. People who, if a friend finishes ahead of them, feel grumpy about their outcome rather than celebrating their friend’s success. People for whom another person’s achievement somehow diminishes their own.
These people don’t seem to be having a good time.
Generally, I would say there is less of this in ultra running than in shorter races - hence the statements in my opening paragraph. It is quite common to team up with total strangers for large chunks of an event, for camaraderie or mutual support.
If someone catches you up, you know you probably can’t do anything to hold them off, so why not have a pleasant chat, wish them well, and see them head off into the distance? It’s not like a 5km, where it’s tempting to push them into the nearest bush (perhaps this kind of thing is why my friends laughed at my self-assessed non-competitiveness).
It’s refreshing that this same mindset - a bit competitive but supportive and friendly, seems to exist in the elite runners. I have run in and followed the Dragon’s Back Race for many years which is a multi-stage mountain ultra in Wales. The multiple stages here allow runners to take stock each evening when the clock stops.
It seems quite common for the top runners - once the leader has established enough of a cushion, and second place has effectively conceded - to run together and have a lovely time. I have met a top runner who said their aim was to be, “the most cheerful person in the race every day,” and this was a winning formula.
There is no conflict between being elite and being nice.
I think this is because there are so many uncontrollable variables in ultra running. There’s lots of time for something to go wrong, even if you’re in great shape. The weather can turn, navigation can go awry, and equipment can break.
I once got gastroenteritis the week before a big race - it cleared up in time, but I had effectively been doing the opposite of carb-loading all week. How can we hope to succeed when so many things can go wrong?
As with many things, there is a glass-half-full approach I’d recommend here. These random occurrences also sometimes work in your favour.
Other people can go the wrong way, or plan things wrong. Keep doing the right things, and the chances can open up in your favour. You just need to make sure you’re in a position to take them when they’re there. I think a good mindset is to keep things steady and be relaxed about the outcomes but be prepared to take opportunities for cheeky results.
There is a word for this, and (with mixed feelings) that word is ‘plucky’.
Definition: Having courage or heart.
Synonyms: Feisty or spunky.
Giving yourself a chance, sometimes against the odds, is plucky. Being plucky allows non-elite runners to have fun and sometimes get unexpectedly good results. Moderating your competitiveness means you’re more relaxed when that doesn’t happen, and you’ll come back for more.
All of which brings me to an approach to goal-setting, which has worked for me and which I’d encourage others to consider.
That is, having tiered objectives for a race, like these, which are in descending order of importance, in my opinion:
Goal 1: come back safe and uninjured.
Goal 2: have a good time.
Goal 3: complete the event.
Goal 4: complete the event in time X.
Goal 5: complete the event in [insert dream outcome].
You might argue with the positioning of goal 2, and that is a personal choice. Personally, I’d rather have a good time even if it was a DNF, than a terrible time and finish the race. Perhaps that’s why I’m not faster, but also why my enjoyment of ultras isn’t dependent on outcomes.
If you’re fixed on goals four and five, you can get disappointed when things don’t work out, even though the more attainable goals are perfectly good.
This tiered goal-setting has worked for me as a way of recognising the difficulty of some events, and those uncontrollable variables. For me, part of the excitement of the big challenges or races is the uncertainty of the outcome. It makes sense to make everything subordinate first to safety, and second to enjoyment.
It also keeps the competitiveness where it belongs - catered for, and allowed to have a little fun, but not dominate the experience.
Richard Kendall is a father of two, a keen ultra distance mountain runner and coach. In his spare time he is a civil servant. targetultra.com