Once more into the fray

Into the last good fight I'll ever know

You know those specific scenes in certain movies that hit deep and stick with you for a long time? I’ve got one from The Grey. Huge spoiler coming so if you haven’t seen it and want to, just skip this whole thing…

After surviving a plane crash in the arctic and being hunted by wolves as he tries to find civilization, the main character is finally surrounded by the pack as the sun is going down and the situation is bleak. He arms himself with whatever sharp object he’s got left and repeats the poem that’s been a theme throughout the movie:

Once more into the fray
Into the last good fight I'll ever know.
Live and die on this day...
Live and die on this day...

We don’t know for sure what happens, but it’s safe to assume he gets eaten by wolves. It’s an intense ending (and movie in general). But the way that he faces this final battle is interesting to me. He’s gotten familiar with facing overwhelming odds, and if this is it, this is it. But he’s ready to face the wolves head on and fight. He knows that it’s likely he’ll die, but the fight will also make him feel alive, and it’s really his best option at this point. This is a dramatic, over-exaggerated comparison, but that’s a bit how I’m feeling heading into the World Champs race in just less than a week.

One of the cooler views on the Long Trail course, around mile 28.

I’ve had a long year already. Just in terms of running, I’ve fought some good fights at TGC and WSER. I’ve thrown myself into the fray against stacked odds and somehow not just survived, but also come out on top and healthy. While it’s comforting to know that’s possible, each time I go into the fray I know that, more likely than not, I’ll lose. The sport is too deep and competitive now at these top-tier races for anyone to really have more than a 50% chance of winning, so the reality is that everyone will probably lose. That’s what keeps this game so exciting.

The good news is that in this case, losing does not equal death by wolves. In many ways, losing doesn’t even equal not winning. More and more, I think losing is not feeling like I gave it my best. Both during the lead up in training and on race day, if I set myself up as well as possible for success and fought as hard as I could, I see that as a win. And it is something I can control. “Live and die on this day.” Not “live or die.” I race to experience intense feelings, good and bad. It makes life feel deep: the lows might be terrible but the highs feel higher. In order to get the most life out of the experience, you have to push to the point where you’re dying a little.

The terrain we’ll go up during the penultimate climb, where I’m expecting to be dying just a bit.

I don’t know what will happen on Saturday. This course is gnarly. Team USA is stacked, and so are some of the other teams. I probably won’t win. But there’s a chance. I do know I’m ready to enter the fray. Ready to treat it like it’s the last good fight I’ll ever know. Ready to live and die on that day.