An early morning run on Mars. Being very anxious, when running above 2500m, I always have this mixed feeling of excitement and fear: “Damn, it feels so good to be up here me, myself and I, with the whole mountain all for me.” Alternated to “I haven’t met a single human being since I left home; what if I get into trouble?” But the show is worth the fear, which is temporary, while memories and joy last much longer. As soon as you get down and start to see vegetation again and bump into people starting their hike, the adventure feels completed, and you have just reached mindfulness.
I hate it when people speak of runners as “heroes.” Runners are no heroes. They’re not saving anyone’s life. They only do it for themselves, so the word selfish would be more appropriate than Hero. Is it hard? Hell no! It’s just fun. Sure, we struggle sometimes, but if it weren’t something joyful, we would not do it first. Working in a mine or in the heat on a rooftop is hard. Not hopping up and down the trails during free time. Someone running an ultra is only helping themself to be happier and consequently become a better person, but running 48 hours without sleeping does not make them a hero.
The place to be (early in the morning). It probably became one of Switzerland’s most popular Instagram spots in the last few years. And since it is so often overcrowded, full of noisy tourists hiking around the lake with flip-flops, like if they were in Disneyland or on the bike lane on Venice beach, I always avoid it during my runs on Alpstein. But this morning at seven, it felt pretty different. The only sound we could hear was the marmot’s whistles and the stones rolling down under the Capricorn’s hooves, and then silence. No shitty Bluetooth speakers, no shouting, the absolute pleasure of nothingness. Nature is a silent soul, and respecting it does not only mean not throwing your trash on the trails but also keeping it a quiet place. Becoming a boomer…
Have you ever wondered what other people think of you when they see you run
Have you ever wondered what other people think of you when they see you running down a street, in front of their houses, or when you bump into them on trails? THEY DON’T CARE.
But what if those people are close friends or loved ones? They do not care either. No one really cares about your running.,
Those people, instead, do care about you being happy. And they won’t measure your happiness through stats on Strava or by reading your personal bests at races.
I am not jealous of a friend who runs a sub 37′ 10km. I am glad if he centered his goal, but that’s it. I don’t find it exceptionally inspiring. I am, rather, jealous of a friend who spent a long day with a big group exploring the world’s beauties, enjoying life. I’m talking about that hate-free, happy-for-you jealousy, which hones my connection to this person, and pushes me to join her activity next time, or even inspired to create my own.
Inspiration is the key.
Our modern society focuses primarily on motivation and too little on inspiration. You can find motivation everywhere, digest it in a bombardment of books, speeches, music, videos and go-hard or don’t bother philosophies. But does this content inspire you? If you become a little faster, perform better, will you be happier?
Whenever someone asks for training advice about running, my point of view always stays the same: Have fun. Enjoy running, gasping, sweating, looking around, and greeting people you’ll meet on your way. Talk to those you are running with even when strained lungs tell you not to speak, listen as their stories unfold further with each step, and share feelings and emotions in collective solitude. Allow yourself to forget about time as you devour encounters with scenic beauty that you need to be still to truly see. Try not to judge yourself, and avoid sticking to a strict plan. It is a game. Running is only a game, a game you can’t lose as long as you continue to play.
As amateurs, we aren’t paid to run, so we don’t need to act professional or disciplined. We already have our full-time jobs for that. Running is a game, a distraction, and sometimes a drug, but a good drug, like music, that doesn’t cover pain, but lets you experience it as a temporary companion on the path to stunning joy.
I don’t need someone telling me to push harder on a climb, but I will be grateful if they tell me how amazing the view will be on top of that hill.
And so, if it doesn’t serve your soul, if it doesn’t inspire you, leave all the push-hard, stay hard, judgement-based bullshit at the trailhead and start your quest for happiness by reconnecting with your nature.
Corro da diversi anni in montagna, e dopo tutto questo tempo ho imparato a conoscerla, a misurarla, ma soprattutto, esattamente come al nostro primo incontro, continuo a rispettarla. Un rispetto che non si traduce solo nell’ovvio senso civico di tenere puliti i sentieri sui quali cammino, di non contaminarla con cose che non le appartengono (vedi la buccia di banana ritenuta innocua perché rifiuto organico), di non inquinarla acusticamente con urla e schiamazzi… Insomma di lasciarla come l’ho trovata. Per rispetto della montagna intendo anche il fatto di temerla: In montagna la spavalderia, la superbia e l’arroganza non pagano. È per questo motivo che la prestazione sportiva su sentieri tecnici né mi impressiona, né tantomeno mi intriga. Per intenderci, ad un video di Kilian Jornet che percorre a velocità umanamente impensabili le lame più temibili della Norvegia, preferisco di gran lunga uno scatto poetico di Alexis Berg, che racchiude, oltre ad una composizione fotografica incredibile, un aneddoto, una storia da raccontare, e non semplicemente una mera “flexata” per far vedere quanto si è forti e/o folli. Questo rispetto, che può anche essere letto come paura, anziché respingermi, mi attrae.
Come dice il detto: “mountains are calling, and I must go”. Esiste questa necessità, questo richiamo della montagna che ti invita, come fosse un amico che propone una partita a tennis, lei invece ti offre una giornata nel silenzio e nella pace che solo la natura ti può dare. Un silenzio che permette di ascoltare sé stessi, guardare dentro di sé, facendo emergere i pensieri più profondi, che ci fanno capire molte cose sul passato, il futuro, ma, soprattutto, che può insegnartene altrettante sul presente. Brividi, sudore, e gambe svuotate dalla fatica, e quella paura che tanto ci piace, come davanti ad un thriller particolarmente intrigante. Ovviamente non solo paura, ma anche fiato sospeso dinanzi ad un paesaggio maestoso, una sensazione di cuore pieno, e quel piacere dell’esclusività di uno spettacolo riservato solo a chi ha pagato il biglietto con il proprio sudore. E non ci sono scorciatoie per chi vorrebbe evitare la fatica. Si dovranno accontentare di foto pubblicate sui social. Ciò che più mi seduce della mia compagna non è la scalata, a cui dedico gran parte dei miei sforzi; né la cima, che può essere considerata come punto di arrivo o di ritorno, in cui il grosso è stato fatto. La mia “thrill zone”, il mio cuore della pizza, la mia crema del bignè, rimane la cresta. Segmento in cui planare, senza pareti ai lati, in cui il nostro riflesso è quello di alzare le braccia ai lati, come se avessimo ali da spiegare. Certo, questo riflesso serve a mantenere l’equilibrio per non precipitare, ma forse è questo il nostro modo di volare. La cresta è la ruota panoramica di un immenso luna park roccioso, sulla quale vediamo tutto con più chiarezza, dove i brutti pensieri pesano di meno, e il vuoto che ci circonda fa un po’ meno paura.
Ridge running is one of the most thrilling experiences you can have. Feeling at the same time free, with no barriers, and fully exposed to danger. I’m for sure what you can call a wimp. I’m always kind of scared and excited at the same time while I am laying on the edge of the mountain. And as I always thought, there’s no shame to fear the mountain. So while you run on those blades, stay focused on your feet.
We, trail runners, run on mountains to feel high. We want to see the world from above. We run high to leave behind our daily routine, made of chaos, traffic jam, smog, noise, and concrete… We are out there looking for inner peace, embraced by fresh air with that good smell of trees, grass, and plants which surrounds us. The only sounds are coming out from our soles hitting the trail, our breath, the birds singing, and the annoying buzzing sound of my drone…
Back in december 2019, on a group run organised by Runaway shop in Milan (Via Ugo Bassi, 22) I met a guy named Artem, who’s also obviously passionated about running. And I discovered some time after our run, that he created a curious project called Runfromdivan. This project is based mainly on Instagram as a page (@runfromdivan) and a Strava club (https://www.strava.com/clubs/runfromdivan)
But I’ll let him introduce it to you:
Hi I’m Artem and I got addicted to running about 3 years ago and about 2 years ago my long-time best friend Roman convinced me to set up a joint Instagram profile where we would post sport-related stuff that we try to do to motivate one another. And so we did, each one from his city, Roman from Moscow and me from Milan, I stuck with running and he went crazy mixing gym, wrestling, MMA, boxing, swimming and a bit of running as well.
The runfromdivan became our moto right away and initially took form of a simple hashtag. The meaning behind is quite straightforward and for me personally represents exactly how I got into running as I’m sure millions of people did. Me in my mid-30s realizing I should be better moving and not laying on the couch, or divan as used in many languages, and at one point just started actually running away from divan. The concept is simple – if you want to run just start doing it – at whatever time you can (for me it was 11 pm.), in whatever minimally suitable clothes you already have and for whatever time you manage at a time. The credit for the concept goes to Jocko Willink, the master of self-discipline (check out his Instagram, he never got up later than 4:30 in like last 20 years), former navy seal and now author of books “Extreme ownership” and “Discipline equals freedom”. So he says “if you want to stop eating sugar – stop eating sugar”.
So runfromdivan is a simple philosophy projecting the idea of getting up and moving around, it can be well represented by cycling from divan, swimming from divan, etc. It has no limits and makes sense to whoever wants to give it a try, not just pure beginners. Everyone has their own “divans” known as comfort zones. Take someone how does trail running for long time, for example, he or she may quite easily avoid signing up and training for months for a 100 km race, but going after it would mean running further from their famous “comfort zone”, hence running from their divan.
I set up a runfromdivan running club on Strava and on Instagram, absolutely everyone can join, especially who feels the whole vibe and knows what divan they want to keep running from. For the future our wish is to gradually grow the community, hopefully getting people from very different places around the world joining, having fun posting photos with hands raised and holding the runfromdivan sign (yes, just like the dude with the sign).
It’s really cool to see how people are putting their mental and physical strengths in action every week, many every single day, getting inspiration, sharing smiles as we all run from our divans for good.
I guess there’s nothing left to say, other than to go join the club, follow them on instagram, and share your #runfromdivan pictures.
