Do you really need to moan?
The start line of a race line can be the best place in the world – or it can totally suck. If you know you’ve done the training and it’s a race you’re prepared for, you’ll be fizzing with anticipation.
If, in your heart of hearts you know you haven’t done the work, if you haven’t run the miles, cold, hard dread will be flowing instead of adrenaline.
And the mood can be dictated by those around you.
Most often, there’s a real buzz, and it’s infectious.
One of my favourites is the Tarawera Ultramarathon, where I’ve stood on the start line for the 100-kilometre race three times (I’ve only reached the finish line twice, but that’s a story for another day).
At Tarawera, runners are squeezed into the starting pen, doing last-minute checks, adjusting straps on hydration packs that don’t need adjusting, making sure for the 100th time that their GPS watch has connected to the nearest satellite, smiling nervously at coffee-clutching supporters.
It feels like you’re all about to embark on a spiritual journey – something about setting off on such a long race can’t help but stir the soul.
But I’ve also stood on plenty of start lines where the vibe is anything but uplifting.
People complaining about how early it is. People complaining about how much it’s going to hurt. People complaining about...oh, everything. Wah, wah, wah.
I get it. I’ve wallowed in selfpity myself. I remember during one marathon, trudging up a hill that seemed like it would never end saying, ‘‘Whose f….ing stupid idea was this?’’ much to the surprise of the runner’s around me.
None of them had an answer, of course, because it was my idea. No one else was to blame.
And that’s the thing. Whenever you enter a race, the number one thing to remember is that you’re there because you want to be there. No one is making you do this.
So, find a way to enjoy it. And quit your moaning.
On the Dirt Church Radio podcast this week, co-host Matt Rayment and I talk to the