The Joy of Running

My tongue-in-cheek remark to a friend after reading Christopher McDougall's Born To Run was this: "Marathons are for wimps". Now, I have yet to run a marathon and I have no illusions about the dedication, hard work, toughness and tenacity required to complete a marathon but after reading about 'ultra freaks' running up and down the 10,000+ feet high Colorado mountains for 100 miles, or plodding 135 miles across the floor of the Death Valley in California in 135 degrees heat, one can be forgiven for thinking that marathons are a stroll in the park.

Born To Run opens with an all too familiar story. A beefy former war correspondent who is built like someone that nature intended 'to take a bullet for the President' rather than pound down the pavement, Mcdougall is doing the rounds of sports shrinks to treat his dodgy feet. In the winter of 2003, he is in Mexico chasing a missing pop star for The New York Times Magazine when he stumbles across a picture of a Jesus like figure running down a rockslide. Welcome to the secret world of Tarahumara Indians, the greatest ultra runners the world has never heard about.

Living like invisible ghosts in the shadowy recesses of the Copper Canyons of Mexico, the peaceful Tarahumara tribes have for centuries outrun their Indian and European tormentors alike just to survive. What is the secret behind their superhuman prowess that enables them to run for hundreds of miles without rest? This is the question that persuades Mcdougall to abandon his celebrity hunt and start another type of hunt, the hunt for a mythical gringo named Caballo Blanco, the 'white horse' who lives with the Tarahumara and runs like one.

Before the book finishes, there is a gripping duel over 100 miles of punishing Colorado trails between a Community College teacher named Ann Tracy and top Tarahumara runners who have been coaxed to participate in the Leadville 100 ultramarathon with promises of corn bags for their villages. I felt the description of this race alone gave all the bang for my bucks.

The book climaxes with a 50 mile foot race in the treacherous Tarahumara territory between the cream of the Tarahumara tribe and the superstars of the North American - which is to say, the world's - ultramarathon scene.

And the secret to the Tarahumara success? In a sentence or three, it is this: All humans are hardwired to run. As kids, all of us run with joyful abandon. As we grow up, we lose this sense of playfulness and sheer joy in running. The Tarahumara keep this playful spirit alive into adulthood, and they have over the millenia woven the art of running into rituals that govern their daily lives. Also, they do not buy expensive, gel-filled Nike running shoes that seem to do more harm than good.