Why we push to extremes
participation was flat during the same period, according to a report released earlier this year on the state of running by RunRepeat.com and the International Assn. of Athletics Federations.
But interest in ultra racing, defined as more than 50 kilometers (about 31 miles) and usually on trails, continues to surge, as does obstacle course racing, particularly among millennials.
In North America, there were 2,129 ultra races in 2018 — nearly quadruple from a decade ago — according to Ultrarunning Magazine.
Crawford already experienced pushing her body to the brink last October, when she finished the junior version of the Javalina Jundred (it’s only 62 miles). She managed to make it to the finish line in just under 20 hours, alternately running and walking while shoving ice cubes in her bandanna and sports bra. She ate Oreos, pumpkin pie and chicken noodle soup to keep up her energy.
“The fatigue can make you crazy,” she says. “The idea of going another 40 miles seems nearly impossible.”
Not content with merely running insane distances, other athletes prefer to add challenges, such as crawling under live electrical wires or carrying 50-pound buckets of gravel up a hill, as part of obstacle course racing.
Participation is up among millennials and women at two of the most popular franchises, Spartan Race and Tough Mudder, which will hold 250 and 123 events, respectively, this year around the world. The Spartan obstacle course racing series, which registered about 1 million racers worldwide in 2017, is on track to see 1.2 million racers at the starting line by the end of 2019, according to Jonathan Fine, a Spartan brand representative. “We’ve found the largest growth between the ages 18 to 29,” Fine said.
For the first time last year, a record number of women participated in the elite Badwater 135-mile race from Death Valley to Mt. Whitney in the peak of summer.
And not to be left out, there are now 41 Ironman competitions, compared with 18 in 2010. (That’s swimming 2.4 miles and biking 112 miles in addition to running a marathon.)
The need to push limits
Humans have always been intrigued by competition and a desire to push our limits.
But what’s behind the current need to do so in calf-crippling agony while vomiting and staying up for 24 hours straight?
Experts say the trend is about more than fighting back middle age or showing off on Instagram: We’re hungry for a particular type of camaraderie.
A recent study of Polish runners published in the December issue of the journal Psychology Research and Behavior Management found that ultra runners were motivated more by life meaning and social belonging.
By comparison, people who ran shorter distances were more concerned with weight loss, self-esteem or personal goals.
“A marathon is running on a road with thousands of strangers. But an ultra marathon is in beautiful nature with a community,” says Daniel Frankl, a kinesiology professor at Cal State L.A. who studies the psychology and sociology of sports.
And obstacle course racing, often done in teams, gives participants a taste of the intense bonding experienced by Navy SEALs. “It’s like a band of brothers,” he says.
Christian Brown-Johnson, 24, of Madera loves the shared sense of purpose and socializing during and after Tough Mudder obstacle races. He’s participated in more than 30 events, including four 24-hour World’s Toughest Mudders, and is signed up for the SoCal event in Lake Elsinore in November. “I’ve met people from all over the world,” says Brown-Johnson, who runs an agricultural services business and also works as a real estate agent and firefighter. “We’re all here to accomplish our own goals, but the community just increases the enjoyment of the event.”
There’s also something about being part of a club with people who understand what it means to make it through the ice bath obstacle called the Arctic Enema, which requires swimming under a board in 34-degree water.
“Only people who do Tough Mudders understand the mental grit needed to accomplish these courses,” Brown-Johnson says. “Other people think we’re crazy.”
Kristina Marshall, an English and history teacher in Rancho Cucamonga, managed to persuade four friends to join her in a Spartan sprint race in honor of her 49th birthday last year. “We decided that we were going to stick together, and the goal was just to finish it,” Marshall says. The sprint version consists of three miles of running with 20 obstacles; for every failed challenge, a Spartan racer must pay a penalty of 30 burpees (a demanding full-body exercise that includes squatting and planking).
During the first race, Marshall missed seven, and her friends waited while she suffered through 210 burpees. “Making it to the end was the hardest thing I have ever done, but it was like no other feeling,” she says.
She and her friends, who range in age from 34 to 53 and call themselves the Spartan Squad, have completed nine races together and have several more planned, including a 13-mile and 30-obstacle Spartan Beast in October.
“We get together multiple times a week now either to work out or for happy hour,” Marshall says. “It’s become my social life.”
A sense of connection
For Brandon Iwai, 29, overcoming the physical challenge of training for a Spartan two years ago served as a psychological metaphor for making it through the worst time in his life: His son was born with a rare liver disease and had to undergo a transplant at 7 months.
“I was at a pretty low point. I was mentally drained, emotional-eating fast food and not exercising,” says Iwai, an air conditioning and heating contractor from Monrovia. After his weight topped out at 213 pounds, he saw an ESPN ad for the Spartan World Championship and began training.
Now he’s down 45 pounds, runs six miles daily and is fixated on mastering the most hated Spartan obstacles in time for October’s “ultra” race.
“One of the obstacles I can’t do is the spear throw. It’s a 4-foot wooden pole with a tip that you have to land in a hay bin,” Iwai says. “But I think about what my son went through lying in a hospital for a month. You can’t surrender. You just say ‘Let’s push through it.’ ”
A common theme among such athletes is their ability to exceed limits beyond their imagination.
And the bar keeps getting raised.
In 2018, there were six 200-mile races in the United States — leading some to question how much the human body can take.
In a 2013 widely cited editorial for the British journal Heart, cardiologist James O’Keefe argued that “extreme endurance exercise may exact a toll on cardiovascular health.” After one to two hours of peak intensity, the heart can get overloaded. Over time, scar tissue and irregular heartbeats can develop, and the heart can age faster than normal.
Yet Dr. William Roberts, a sports medicine specialist at the University of Minnesota, says his own research failed to find a link between increased coronary plaque in men and women who frequently run long distances. “My general advice is that as long as you feel healthy and you’re not having chest pains or pressure and your joints feel fine, then you should keep doing what you enjoy.”
Alex Nemet, 44, of Encinitas has completed the so-called “triple crown of 200s” (200-mile-plus races in Washington state, Tahoe and Moab, Utah). But he says the 6633 Arctic Ultra — billed as the “world’s most extreme marathon,” which involves running 380 miles while pulling a sled over six days — gave him the ability to put life’s trials into a big-picture perspective.
He lost 26 pounds during the race and barely slept at the rest stations set up along the course. “It’s amazing what your mind and body can go through. People used to think, ‘No one can run 100 miles.’ Now they say, ‘200s are the new 100s,’ ” says Nemet, a furniture entrepreneur who could barely run three miles at age 30. Now he’s addicted. “Doing these races strips you to your core and helps me be in the moment. I escape the daily stresses of life, and I have time to reflect on what’s important, like my family, my legacy and my purpose,” Nemet says.
“It’s a fuller way of living.”