On my desk there is a phrase I copied, and it says, in English: "Why? Because there are adventures to be had…". The great why answered with stunning simplicity: "because there are adventures to be lived". That simple. That is the reason why we get up at dawn to shift the weight of gravity from one foot to the other, awakening the heart from its lethargy, forcing it to pump life until it fills the last capillary vessel of the last muscle in our legs.
That is, why would someone in their right mind voluntarily get up toward the cold of the unknown, walking in state-of-the-art sneakers toward the darkness of dawn, while feeling out of the corner of their eye the unfolded and still warm corner of the sheet looking incredulous as they rudely trade it for something almost abstract that we simply call, RUNNING.
And there we go, stumbling most times clumsily against the ground trying to keep our arms at 45 degrees and our head on our neck. As hard as it may seem to believe sometimes, running carries within it the concept of advancing, of progressing. Every step you take is one more than the guy who stayed in his blankets, and that makes sense not because the guy stayed in the blankets, but because we, as people, advance. At 10 minutes per kilometer, at 15 or at 20, but we advance like little Kipchoges toward our own Brandenburg Gates.
The paradox? Oh yes!, the paradox. The paradox is that we do it, all of this, "because there are adventures to be lived", but living them carries within itself an inherent risk: the adventures to be lived can lead us to die. Every adventure contains the risk that it might be the last. Something, I suppose, can always go wrong. But then, what is the other option? To stay at home, protected and huddled under the warmth of the sheets, watching life pass by on a high-definition screen? There lies the dilemma that in reality, in the end, is not really one.
A century ago the British George Mallory gave one of the most epic answers when asked why on earth he thought it was a good idea to try to climb Mount Everest, with all the risks that entailed. Mallory answered: "because it is there". That laconic answer conveys the message not only with wonderful clarity but also contains enormous strength: why not?
If we climb Chirripó, or run the 100 miles of Leadville, if we run the marathon in New York or London or Berlin or Panama or the North Pole, if we run La Candelaria, Sol y Arena, the Christmas race or the neighborhood race, maybe we'll have a heart attack. Oh my dear, but why did you go and get yourself into those things! Well mom, it's because I had two options; the heart attack could happen to me while running and living the adventure, or lying in my bed watching someone else live it. I decided to live it myself, inhaling the fresh air of the mountains and savoring every sip of cold hydration entering my body in combustion, feeling the pleasure of seeing how my legs could carry me farther and farther, to places so beautiful and so remote that not even cars with their four legs have been able to reach.
I decided to do something with my life, accumulate medals but not for the piece of metal but because each piece of metal is a sign of a path traveled, it is a reminder that I have done something worthwhile, that I have overcome myself, my fears, my laziness, the less pleasant versions of myself. And that, by itself, is enough to get me out of bed every early morning.
If I fail, or if ultimately I die, as Mallory died on his second expedition to Everest, I will have lived a life worth living. Let's say that day instead of starting the running plan that would lead you to complete the marathon you stayed home and lived until you were 90 years old. And there lying in your bed, ready to die, you will think what would have happened if you had played your cards differently. You played it safe, yes, you took no risks, you never left your comfort zone, you worked, you retired, you aged; well played. Right? Hm… then you think about the what-ifs, the famous what-ifs. What would have happened if I had talked to that girl I met when I was 30, the most beautiful woman I ever saw but whom I didn't take the risk to talk to? How will everything look from the top of that mountain I always saw on the way to work? How will it feel to finish a marathon? And then, you doubt. Wouldn't you trade every single day of your life, from that day until the day you died at 90, for simply having the opportunity, just one opportunity, to try to climb that mountain? To talk to the girl? To run a marathon?
“I would not want to reach the end of my life thinking that I have not lived. It is essential to make the attempt to live an extraordinary life, outside the normal, not for the sake of going against the norm, but because we must aspire to more. Life or things will not happen later, they are happening now. We must make the attempt for each day to be exceptional".Unknown author.
Life is a mystery and things happen that are totally beyond our control. We don't know when we will die, but we can decide how we are going to live. And you, are you going to run or are you going to stay in bed?
