A tall tale, pun unintentional

Feet in the Clouds
A Tale of Fell-Running and Obsession
by Richard Askwith

It appears that there are a bunch of old-timers in England, Scotland, Wales and Ireland that call mountains 'fells' and run races on them.  Who'd have thunk  it? Not me.

But so there are. After reading Born to Run, I thought the Leadville Trail 100 ultramarathon was the height in human idiocy. You go out in the morning, run all day and through the night, ascend to the top of a mountain and down again.  For a belt buckle.

But it ain't shucks to the feats these Brits get up to. They've been doing it a long time, too--in the old days they called them Guide Races and the people undertook them unsupported, for the most part, and unknown to most of the world.

The obsession in the book's title appears to be the author's own obsession--to finish the Bob Graham Round, 42 peaks in the Lake District, in under 24 hours. His quest is not a big part of the narrative, but it drives the book's finish and I'm glad I stuck it out until the end. There is obsession in many of the fell runners' stories, but his is the one that grabbed me. Where did this guy come from, what made him want to do this thing, and what drives him to keep on trying? It's his story and it's all the stories, all as different as right from rain, and all, strangely, gripping.

Confession: I did get tired of the book, about halfway through, but that's more my own personal failing rather than a jab at the book. I'd still recommend it.

Most interesting to me, personally, as an aging would-be runner, is the sheer durability of these guys. And gals. Mr. Askwith describes the Wasdale, a race over 25 miles of rugged mountain terrain, as having sixty-eight starters with only twenty-six under forty. Do the math--68-26=42. 42 runners over forty years old. Is the sport aging out?

He isn't sure, but he does think the reason for such a large proportion of older runners may be that the old are fitter and healthier than ever and fell-running enthusiasts tend to stay fitter and healthier.
Stamina tends to improve with age anyway. So, for many of us, does technique, as experience refines our feet's mastery of rough ground. Mark Hartell says that, at thirty-nine, 'I feel my age in terms of having to stretch a bit more, but in terms of speed I seem to be getting faster. It's amazing.' And when Wendy Dodds, just turned fifty-one, recently did an extended BG of fifty-three peaks, it took her less time than her original BG, twenty-three years earlier - 'and it felt far easier - I just sailed through it.' (It would have been fifty at fifty but for foot-and-mouth; then it was going to be fifty-one at fifty-one, but she added two more 'just for fun'.)

My biggest question was answered near the end--did the runners ever stop and enjoy the scenery? 

[Bob Graham] once remarked that if you spend a minute on each peak enjoying the view, you're added forty-two minutes to your time. 

From this, I'd say the answer is 'no'. So what did they do it for?  Why not just run up and down the same mountain all the time, if you're not going to look at the view?

Well, they might respond, why do I think the only thing to do with a beautiful view is to look at it?  Oscar Wilde said, 'It seems to me that we all look at Nature too much, and live with her too little.'  The author quotes this and agrees--

...if you're not cold, or wet, or lost, or exhausted, or bruised by rocks or covered in mud, you're not really experiencing the mountains properly. The point is not the exertion involved: it's the degree of involvement, or immersion, in the landscape. You need to feel it, to interact with it; to be in it, not just looking from the outside. You need to lose yourself -- for it is then that you are most human.

I think he has a point. In the same way that looking at a mountain isn't shucks to walking on it, running it may be "a step up" in man-mountain interaction. And while I think walking, sleeping, sitting, crawling on your hands and knees with a magnifying glass in front of your eyes, or even living on a mountain is a pretty fine thing, running it? I'll leave that to the magnificent fell-runners. I bow to you all.