It’s taken me a while to finish this blog because I’ve been struggling with what it’s really about. I started writing it after talking to some of the race directors I know about how fucked their businesses were – people asking for refunds, pulling out of events, having to cancel stuff, not forward planning etc. As much as I understand the financial, emotional and logisitical issues people are facing at this point, it made me massively sad that the very people that have given us such joy, community and amazing experiences are suffering to the point that some of them won’t survive. It also made me sad that people in general have shut their minds to adventure, forward planning and what IS possible after this. So I decided to focus on what my experiences in the last three years have given me, what they will give me in the future, and how they have helped me to be able to cope a hundred times better with this crisis than I would have otherwise done. This is about why you should think about how you’re going to enrich your life after this now.
I don’t want it to feel like a lecture, a sales pitch or a humblebrag story. But I do want people to read it, understand it and get a bit inspired to start looking towards the end of the tunnel. It’s quite long. Get a cup of tea or a beer or something. And if you like it please share it with your pals. I’ve put some nice photos in it to break up the text, but also to remind me and you of what is waiting for us out there when this is done.
Namibia, February 2020 with Sport Relief. Credit: Leo Francis Photography
When this is done, when it is over, you will have changed as a person. You will have a different perspective on life. Good WILL come of this and now you have the time to think about what that good will be. My perspective on what it means to live was changed not by a virus, but by being given the opportunity to start living a life full of glorious experiences before all this happened. A life full of tests, trials and lessons in endurance and reaction to adversity. Like I said, this is not a sales pitch or some wanky influencer story about how you can earn £100K with just your laptop and a plane ticket (if anyone knows how to actually do that can they tell me?). This is about how you now have the opportunity to think about what you want to get out of what time you have left. Time is extraordinarily precious and people put stuff off. In doing that, they are doing themselves a huge disservice and miss out on things that can enrich and inform every facet of their life going forwards. You’ve had your nose firmly to the grindstone for most of your adult life, earning money to be able to do the things you enjoy, but still putting them off for this reason or that, and now most of you are doing nothing. Ask yourself if living that way has made you a happier, more resilient, rounded, calmer, kinder person? Or has it just made you fucking stressed out, full of excuses and with a current feeling of directionless worry? How many people wish they had done things differently while they could? Right now, we are not allowed to change anything. So we need to plan for when we can.
The Isles test pilot trip, Outer Hebrides, October 2019 Credit: Leo Francis Photography
Up until a few weeks ago, I was guilty of taking everything that I have done since I started working as a Test Pilot with Rat Race for granted. I was reminded by a friend a week or so ago that we get asked to go and do this stuff all the time. We get asked to do multiple trips a year and experience things so epic that it is extremely difficult to explain them to other people. It becomes a new normal when you do it a lot. When I actually sat and thought and wrote down the things I have experienced, I realised just how fucking lucky I have been. I say lucky (and we will come back to the word in a bit) but I have given up a lot to take on this slightly odd lifestyle. It wasn’t just magically there - I didn’t win it in a competition. I made a decision to change things.
I no longer have what most people would call a proper job or proper income. At the moment I have no income at all, but that was my gamble. The gamble was to actually live in a way that made me feel proper feelings. To live in a way that made my heart full, that helped make a difference to people and educated me and them, that banked memories and experiences and that helped inspire others to get up and do something.
I worked in what a lot of people called a dream job the music industry for years before I found this life, and I earnt a lot of money doing it. I also spent a lot of money self-medicating with alcohol and expensive coats and shoes. Towards the end I was emotionally fucked. I was in an abusive relationship with the job I loved. It was so stressful and intense that it almost destroyed me. At the time, I was repeatedly told I was lucky to be doing it. There’s that word again. “Lucky”. That line ‘you’re so lucky to be doing this’ is classic coercive control used by the people in charge to, well, control you. Ultimately, I was trying to make people as rich and famous as I could by any means necessary in order to validate my own existence. In reality, I was deeply, deeply unhappy. There was a huge hole inside of me. I wasn’t nice to anyone, I wasn’t kind to anyone, I was just fucking empty, but I had a ‘good’ job and was doing life like everyone else. I was a functioning depressive.
Back in the day when I was hammered pretty much all the time.
My personal realisation around all of this came during a pretty low depression, when I first travelled to Lake Khovsgol in Mongolia on the Rat Race Test Pilot trip back in 2017. I went on the trip out of desperation. I was obviously desperately unhappy in my work, I had just come out of a pretty full on relationship and mentally I was very, very ill. I hated myself and the fact I had gone from what I saw (or thought was) a confident, functioning member of society to a shell of what I knew I could be. I spent a lot of time on the ice alone – I was, at that point, pretty inexperienced and there were only a few of us testing the route. The lake is huge, 100 miles long, so sometimes I wouldn’t see or speak to anyone for hours. It was on the second or third day when I just stood, alone on that ice listening to the rage in my head and taking what it was saying to pieces. I stared at the never-ending ice, silent apart from the cracks and booms for the lake, and realised I had a choice. I could actually choose what I believed about myself. I needed to accept my tangible faults and address them calmly and patiently. I didn’t have to pretend to be a person like I had during my music industry career. I could choose to be me. And ultimately, that would be enough. That realisation only came because of the isolation within that environment, the lack of distraction and me being forced to actually listen to my own thoughts for a while. That was a breakthrough. I felt like I had some control. And honestly, for a just a minute, I felt happy and calm for the first time in years. I credit that first Test Pilot trip with being the week that triggered a change in me that has kept me going to this day.
Lake Khovsgol, Mongol 100, March 2018. Credit: Leo Francis Photography
“Doing something this big is transformative” says Cath Wallis, who came out for the first public Race to the Wreck trip in Namibia in November 2019. “With each hard-won step through soft sand; with each victorious, exhausted arrival into camp, the noise of everyday life disappears. What is left is clarity - about what really makes you happy and what kind of person you want to be.”
Without wanting to sound like a twat, adventure and challenge changes you in seisemic and profound ways. I’ve found that every experience I have had, and especially the Test Pilot trips, where things can go monumentally tits up at a moments notice, have made me into a better, more resilient, grateful, humble, helpful human being. I believe they have also helped me prepare for how I deal with the current crisis we find ourselves in. I’m using the techniques that I have used when I have been at rock bottom physically and emotionally on these trips to navigate the way I feel about being isolated from people, controlled (quite rightly – never thought I would say that about Boris) by government instructions and unable to do the things I want to do. Things have changed. We have to roll with it. But we also have to plan for when this is done. And it will be done. I think everyone will do things differently when we come out of the other side, and it’s time to start thinking about that now. It’s time to start thinking about how we can be better for us, our families, our friends and our society – how we can all live a life less ordinary. All we leave behind are memories. We had better make them fucking good ones.
“Race to the Wreck stood out as something that not everyone would have the chance to do, in fact we were the first 40 people to do it as a group” says Andy Broadfield, who was also on that trip in November 2019. “The desert is massive on a scale that defies words. It gets into your soul in minutes and never leaves. Running sections on your own, having not seen another human for an hour or two is so humbling, all you’ve got is your own thoughts”.
Namibia, Race the Wreck, 2019. Credit: Leo Francis Photography
It’s very hard in the world we live in to be completely alone with our thoughts. Distraction is everywhere, and it’s everywhere for a reason. For a lot of people, the idea of addressing themselves is terrifying – it’s a battle they don’t want to face. It can be extremely painful. But if you can face it with honesty and integrity, it builds you up to be stronger than you will ever know. And can be vital when you find yourself in situations like the one we currently find ourselves in. A lot of people will struggle to address this time alone or with their families, because they haven’t listened to themselves properly for years and they won’t like what they hear. I have already had the opportunity to know who I really am and how to cope in a fast-changing environment, and while I am no expert, I do know that I can get through this. It’s like a really long endurance race. You just have to get to the next checkpoint and then re-evaluate and keep moving forward. You have to adjust your goals. Sit still, eat, think, recalibrate and move forward - and always have a plan.
“I felt that I could do anything when I got back [from the desert]” says Andy. “in the back of my mind I know I’ve crossed a desert. It’s replaced my previous pinnacle event as the ‘if I finished that event, I can do anything I put my mind to’ thing.”
Trying (and failing) to fix Carls shoes, Namibia, Race to the Wreck 2019. Credit: Leo Francis Photography
“I’d say that Namibia gave me back my appreciation for friendships (new and old)” says Carl Hemus, another participant who took part in November. “It made me realise just how important they are to me. If you are minded to invest in yourself, even if only once in your life, then I suggest handing yourself over to the Rat Race Crew and just, well, trust their process.” And it is a process. The days spent out on ice or deserts or jungles are a time for processing stuff.
Laura Fisher came with me on a Test Pilot trip to the Outer Hebrides last year. I took a female only team because I wanted to show all women just what they were capable of achieving. “When I signed up to run 160 miles in five days in the Outer Hebrides, I had a feeling this was a 'make or break' moment” says Laura. “Testing my resolve and resilience over a multi-day running adventure with a group of previously unknown participants challenged every part of me - fitness, problem solving, maintaining sense of humour, managing lack of sleep, and finding strength to carry on through fatigue and darkness. Above all, it taught me the importance of team-work, connection and emphasising the experience and journey over any sense of competition or 'winning.' I've never felt so proud of an achievement - I've made friends for life and, ultimately, have changed the way I view myself. Instead watching people complete amazing challenges from afar, I now feel fully able to be in the centre of that world and jump into these experiences, eyes wide open.”
Laura Fisher, Outer Hebrides test pilot, October 2019. Credit: Leo Francis Photography
Those experiences can be good or bad. It doesn’t matter. Having tools in your armoury to fight uncertainty and change are all part of the ultra-runner or adventurers arsenal.
Rewind to December 2017. I find myself completely exhausted after the Namibia Race to the Wreck Test Pilot trip, and on my way to the Panamanian Jungle to test the route for Panama Coast to Coast. Looking back this, was not one of Jim’s best ideas – spending nine days in the desert followed by one in Cape Town running up mountains, followed by flights back to London with a six-hour turnaround and THEN a flight to Panama to run across the country twice was a big ask. But again, I learnt so much about managing myself and my mental health when faced with what looked like an impossible struggle, I could cope with it. Yeah, I had a couple of mini meltdowns but I could cut them short and get them over with pretty fast.
Long story short. It was fucking brutal. We were tired, physical burnt out, and we had a huge undertaking ahead of us – spending a lot of time self-supported in the jungle – a place reknowned for breaking humans down to their very core.
Jungle life, Panama 2018.
My experience on the lake had changed me, but this was the trip that REALLY changed me. Let’s just take a second to have a little look at this - the Kubler-Ross change curve. Bear with me, kids. This does make sense. The Kubler-Ross Change Curve (originally called the grief curve) is based around the five stages of grief and was created by psychiatrist Elisabeth Kubler-Ross in a book called ‘Death and Dying’ (classic goth bedtime reading) which came out in 1969. It was inspired by her work with people who were terminally ill. There are a few versions of this – a lot of business leaders have adapted it to show how it works within business in crisis. The original stages included in this model are denial, anger, depression, bargaining, and acceptance. Shock is sometimes added in before denial (it was for me in the jungle) but I’m not going to get into the arguments around semiotics here. I’m just talking about me. As usual.
After publication, the model was widely accepted as valid in a majority of cases of people coping with grief and situations relating to change. And the reason I am including it here is because that is what we are in now. The stages may vary from person to person, many have argued they are not always linear, and you can bounce between them in certain situations, but they are all there, and they will all happen, one by one.
Back to Panama. The first two days of running were OK. Yes, I was knackered, but they were road sections with well comfy accommodation at night and relatively chilled running in the day. Then came the jungle. Then came the first part of my journey on the curve; shock. I never thought that the jungle would be so fucking awful. It was rainy season and the terrain was almost impassable. We were doing 8 miles in 13 hours. That gave way to the denial. It couldn’t be like this for the whole time. Jim would sort us out. There must be a way out. It would be better than this round the next corner. Then the anger. I was better than this, I could move faster than this. Why did we have to keep stopping? Surely people knew the way? This wasn’t what I thought it would be. This wasn’t like the other Test Pilot trips. Then the depression. We were stuck here, we weren’t going to be able to make it to the end, we were going to have to keep going until we could be extracted. We weren’t going to have our promised time on the Caribbean island of Bocas. This was all for nothing. I was alone, I had people with me, but I was alone in my head I was hungry all the time. I hated myself for not being able to change this for me or the people I was with. I hated myself. That’s al I could think. I fucking hate myself. It was at this point I started thinking really, really stupid stuff like how can I get extracted? Maybe cut myself with a machete or take an overdose of the very small amount of paracetamol I had on me? Depression raged for about 48 hours. I cried a lot and hit things. I boomeranged between anger and depression. Then came the experiment stage. If I couldn’t make myself feel better, maybe I could help others to distract from myself. I tried to share food and made an effort to try and be kinder to the boys I was with – they were all dealing with it like “real men” – ie bottling it all up. They must be feeling awful too. Then the bargaining (sometimes called decision phase). This is how it was going to be. We wouldn’t get what we thought we would at the end. It was going to be a very different ending to the one we thought we would have. If I’m honest, the bargaining part was the longest, and I bounced between this and depression and anger a lot.
When I got out of the jungle and onto the plane, I decided that I was going to use this experience to help make me a better person. I had got through it. All that stuff had happened, but I had got through it. When I got home I fluctuated between the depression and bargaining part of the process for a very long time – about two months. Eventually those feelings gave way to acceptance. Changes in my thinking and bahviour started to become integrated into my life. I knew I could face challenges (all challenges) better if I separated the controllable stuff from the not controllable stuff. I had spent so much time in my own head battling with my own thoughts in the jungle that I had more or less ironed my brain out. I understood it was my ego that was telling me all the bad shit, and whilst that’s great when it’s telling me not to touch a spikey tree, it’s not when it’s telling me I can’t do something or I am shit and everyone hates me. The voice is there, but you can choose whether or not you take its advice when you know what it sounds like.
This was on one of the last days in Panama. I am fucked in this picture. Mentally and physically fucked.
I understood why change effects people in such a violent and debilitating way. That trip had such a prolific and important impact on me. I had been through such a range of emotions and I was out the other side. That kind of experience is invaluable and can be tapped into in almost any part of my life going forward.
I wrote more. I listened more. I took advice and helped people who were struggling with their own heads. I wrote so that I could remember the lessons. I accepted that when things change that are out of my control, it’s down to me and only me to take them to bits and analyse how I deal with them. It’s only me that can make a difference to my world and the bits of it I can control, and I can use that to help improve the worlds of other people. It’s that jungle experience that I have been revisiting throughout our current crisis. And it’s working. I wouldn’t have those tools had I not done the things that I have done as a Test Pilot.
So the curve is relevant. We need to understand and stay ahead of it. Don’t try and rush through it. Just understand it’s a process. Understand what is happening now, and what may well happen later. It will get worse before it gets better. If we can understand this and forsee how we may feel, react and behave, we can then plan. And long-term planning gives us just a tiny bit control and a lot of hope. We may have to change and adapt the whole time, but we can do that. We need to work out what takes us away from the havoc of this crisis for a moment and do those things that make us feel happier to get back on track. Having goals and big plans is one of those things that will help us.
Day one, Panama Coast to Coast test pilot. December 2018. Credit: James Appleton
In life, some people will call on stressful work situations or family situations that they have experienced to get through the tough bits. For others it will be times they have been physically or mentally challenged and overcome those obstacles. Some won’t cope at all because they have no frame of reference to base their reactions on. If it’s the first time you have been faced with adversity, it’s a horrendous lottery. For me, I go back to what happened in the jungle, on my 100 mile races, during Sport Relief and in the desert. All the times I have been faced with adversity, physical or mental exhaustion come back into play and they help me get through it.
In the last few weeks I have been as fucked off, stressed out, worried and disappointed as everyone else in the world at the way we have to live for now. All my trips for the foreseeable have been cancelled. Mongolia, Panama, the Arctic Circle, Exhuma – all postponed until not sure when. I rely on the trips for my happiness, income and writing. I now have little to no income. But I know it will be OK. Because I have been through it in very different ways before. And I will do it again.
I honestly believe that every single ultra-event, race and Test Pilot trip I have been on has equipped me with tools that will help me get through this and come out of the other side better. And if it doesn’t work out, what a fucking life I have led. Such a glorious life. I have done more in the last three years than most people do in a lifetime. But the funny thing is anyone can do any of these things. You just have to get your head out of the sand, stop catastrophising, think about what YOU want to do or be, and make a fucking plan!
The Isles test pilot, Outer Hebrides, October 2019. Credit: Leo Francis Photography
Let’s finish by talking about that word “lucky”. Most people are labelled “lucky” if they get to do just one of the trips that I have done in their lifetime. The phrase “trip of a lifetime” is bandied about a lot in conversation, but I am not sure people understand what that means until they’ve done it. I put the word lucky in inverted commas because I think this word is often used in the wrong way. Of course, some people have more money and time than others – often that is because they have made a decision to work towards a job that pays well, or they are in a relationship where they are allowed more time, or they made a conscious decision to not start a family or buy a house. It’s very rarely luck or lack of luck that puts people in their situations (I don’t include people’s health here – sometimes that can be completely arbitrary). Usually it’s decisive planning and a series of events which involve decision making that dictate how people’s lives play out. If you want to change something about your life you have to be decisive and often very brave. You have to kick down doors, not expect them to open. In the grand scheme of things, very few people have made their money winning the lottery, marrying a footballer, or having an elderly relative die. And a lot of people that have these things are, vitally, not happy at all.
Panama Coast to Coast test Pilot Trip, December 2018. Credit: James Appleton
The experiences that I have had that yes, you have to buy with money, are decisions that are consciously made by the people that want to take part in them. Those people make plans, make sacrifices and work out ways to be able to take part, be that through volunteering, saving up or not buying that car/house/coat that they want but don’t actually need. They see the time away from families not as a sacrifice but a benefit. To have your children see you go and explore the world like a badass is no bad thing. To have time for you doing something you want to do is vital to your development as a human and I hope this blog has illustrated that. Adventure provides you with skills and experiences beyond those you can develop in your bubble or on a course at work.
Use this time you have to work out what you want to do with the rest of your life. Get on the internet and look at opportunities. Book things, get excited, look towards how much opportunity we have once this is done and cherish it. We are so lucky to have the freedom we have as humans and we should use it. This will pass, and I will be back out there testing routes, taking people on adventures and watching them change in front of my eyes and that is what keeps me going. I am extremely grateful that I have that waiting for me on the other side of this.
The other night I was on Netflix binge, like everyone else in the world, and I ended up watching After Life (Ricky Gervais, loses his wife to cancer, is miserable but funny). There was a line in it that really stuck with me that I thought I would leave here.
“Life is not a film. It’s precious because you can’t watch it again. Once you realise you’re not going to be around forever, I think that’s what makes life so magical. One day you will eat your last meal, hug your friend for the very last time. You might not know it’s the last time, and that’s why you should do everything you love with passion. Treasure the few years you’ve got, because that’s all there is.”
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Stay safe.