Runner’s High: The speed queens need to chill

Elliott Lee Scott on the run. // Courtesy of the sprinter

As a reader kindly reminded me this week, it’s been a while since my last column. A busy winter turned into a hectic spring with a 50km trail race in February and a 50-mile ultramarathon in March. Look for new entries “Mud and masochism in the Wyandotte woods” and “Friendship forged over 50 miles” in the weeks to come.

However, for this Runner’s High, I wanted to focus on a recent interaction I had at a local race expo. Part of my day job is promoting the endurance events produced by the Kansas City Sports Commission, which include races like the Garmin Kansas City Marathon, Boulevard Revel Run, and Kansas City Triathlon, to name a few.

Race expos, for those unfamiliar, are a combination of vendors selling gear, other endurance events advertising their upcoming competitions, and volunteers facilitating packet pickup and last-minute registrations. 

An older man approached me, probably in his mid-60s, and we predictably began to talk about running. “You must be fast,” he commented with a big smile. I demurred, but he persisted. “Surely, you could run a 3:15 marathon right now.”

Taken aback, I responded, “Maybe if I trained for it.”

To be clear, the fastest marathon I’ve completed was 3:28, and I was extremely proud of that particular PR. Our conversation segued to ultramarathon distances, and the man let me know his 50-mile time—a sub-8-hour result—before asking mine.

With a forced smile I answered, “10:50,” and he gave me a confused look. I think he finally understood we weren’t on the same page, not kindred spirits but two runners with radically different philosophies and goals.

The conversation fizzled from that point, with him finally suggesting I run Pike’s Peak because “people find it impressive.” He continued on to other booths, leaving me with a sick feeling in my stomach. It was a twinge of shame.

Whenever people ask why I run, I talk about mental health. I trained for my first marathon to break through a period of time that felt stagnant, like I was caught in limbo. Running also saved me from the existential dread of the COVID-19 pandemic when my choices were to stay at home or get outside.

For me, it’s never been about being the fastest or winning the race.

Part of why ultramarathons appeal to me is the positivity, sense of community, and acceptance ultrarunners give each other. We come in all shapes and sizes, with different goals and perspectives. But what unites us is a shared desire to do something difficult, painful, and rewarding.

I respect that, for some, speed is the name of the game. All I ask is for those runners to have a degree of empathy and awareness. We’re not all racing against each other. Some of us are simply racing with others towards “the high.”