THE EMOTIONAL EXPERIENCE: POST RACE ‘BLUES

WORDS: PAUL WATKINS IMAGES: SUPPLIED

CW // Mental Health, Depression

TRM would like to advise that this article focuses on Paul Watkins’ lived experience, and therefore discusses mental health and depression. We understand that this discussion may be difficult for those in our community who also suffer from these disorders, and have included support services at the end of the article.

YOU’VE TRAINED AS HARD YOU CAN, PUTTING IN THE ALL-CONSUMING WORK TO DEDICATE YOUR ATTENTION TO RUNNING, STRENGTH TRAINING, CROSS TRAINING AND NUTRITION IN A BID TO PREPARE FOR YOUR A RACE. BUT SOMETIMES AFTER YOU CROSS THAT FINISH LINE AND HAVE THE MEDAL AROUND YOUR NECK, A FEELING OF SADNESS CAN SET IN FOR DAYS, WEEKS OR EVEN MONTHS. PAUL WATKINS RETELLS HIS TIME GOING THROUGH THE POST RACE ‘BLUES’, AND MAPS OUT SOME STRATEGIES THAT HELPED HIM RECOVER AND IDENTIFY HIS EMOTIONS.

It was like a Hollywood movie script, a true hero’s journey.

A race of epic proportions, I had dreamed about it, trained and sacrificed; travelled the breadth of the Earth to stand at the start line. Only to quit, DNF at 250km mark, broken, frozen, hallucinating, fractured and busted.

But the hero’s journey continued. I limped home to discover the wisdom hidden within the failure (insert Rocky-style training montage and an eventual return to the start line in a foreign land). Not only did I conquer the race that second time, finally reaching the finish line on the shores of a frozen Arctic Ocean, but I stood on top of the podium, conquering all and sundry, demons within and competitors without.

It literally, literally could not have gone better.

So why can’t I sleep? Why am I snapping at those I love? Why am I lost at sea, so to speak?

I dedicated three years of my athletic life to a singular goal and reached the very pinnacle but the post credit scenes were not the fireworks, adulation or clarity I had imagined.

It was a black dog and a sea of confusion.

“I have a giant bottomless pit inside of me that I keep throwing accomplishments into. Diplomas, certificates, degrees, races, job titles...once I finish the 10km, I have lost interest in it. I need to do 15km. Once I get a bachelors degree, I need a Masters; then a PhD. I can never fill this pit. I shouldn’t try. But the second I finish something, I forget it and hunger for the next.” – Jon Foreman.

What fresh hell is this?

I won the race, but fell into a hole. It seemed like a crappy gift to be honest, and I cycled through the inevitable questions – what’s wrong with me? Shouldn’t I be elated? Why does everyone else seem fine?

Only everyone else wasn’t fine, either.

I had a conversation with a mate via messaging in March this year – Tim Hamlin, a fellow Aussie who had just finished the same Arctic race I’d conquered in 2019. We had both attempted and DNF’d the race in 2017, spending several days and nights together on the frozen trail. By 2023 he had put six years of his life into it, planning, attempting, visualising, sacrificing. And in a brutally tough year he had finally slayed the demon and made it to the finish line (in a race where 80 per cent of competitors start but don’t finish).

“I’m a bit lost, mentally and emotionally; don’t know if I’m happy or sad,” Tim told me.

I responded, letting him know I was semidepressed for about six months after the 6633 Arctic Ultra; that I had no idea what was going on with me.

“We need to talk, I’ve got to sort this out,” Tim said.

Call it what you like – post race blues, the come down, the gaping hole where my event used to sit. It’s real, it’s common and we need to talk about it.

A short disclaimer first. I’m not a psychologist nor am I a counsellor. I’m a WFH Dad juggling kids, jobs, training and trail time. So take this all with a grain of electrolytes, but if I can share some experiences and help cobble together a map to help navigate the post-race landscape then I think it’s worth the time and effort.

I put the call out previously, asking around my circle who else had experienced this?

Turns out, damn near everyone. I got messages from triathletes, Ironmen, combat veterans, ultra runners. I was reliably informed that even astronauts get it. The common thread was that there would be a big goal, it would be conquered, and then the wind would get sucked out of the sails.

So let’s tackle the potential reasons and then map some strategies; putting the scientist hat on, we can demystify some of this.

Huge events place a massive toll on the endocrine system. Homeostasis, the state of balance, gets well and truly abandoned as we flood the system with cortisol, inflammatory markers and all manner of biochemical deprivation. So it’s no surprise there is a time and toll for recovery. A post-race pizza and beer feels good, but you’ve got bigger bills. We are trying to right the biological ship and that takes time, and during that time, your body and mind is floating in a chemical soup that’s as helpful as a cold bowl of gruel at an aid station.

Then there’s the mental and emotional component. Suddenly we aren’t training as much – or even at all. Nutrition slides, sleep slides, mood follows biology. Is it any surprise we find ourselves careening down a very different kind of slope?

Take some comfort though that this happens to the very best of ‘us’. After winning a record breaking eight gold medals at Beijing in 2008, Michael Phelps said, ‘I took some wrong turns and found myself in the darkest place you could ever imagine.’ He admitted to barely training for 2012, a DUI in 2014 and a stint in rehab before finally climbing back to competitive success.

Turns out humans will be human. Peaks, troughs, summits and valleys, we all have to navigate but now it’s time to set up patterns and behaviours to get us prepared for postrace life. Let’s find a way to navigate the interstitial space between events in a positive and healthy way.

Here’s my two cents worth.

Unless you’re a pro athlete, you probably have other stuff going on in your life and I bet dollars-to-donuts that plenty of that ‘other stuff’ is completely awesome. Remember that training and racing is something you do, it’s part of the mosaic, and unless you’re doing it to pay the bills, let it be a chapter of your story, not the entire book.

By developing a love of the practice of training, the process, the actual work of getting to the start line, we can build a healthier relationship with the end point. The race can morph from some identity-defining moment on which we hang everything, into a reward, a chance to reap the reward of the hard hours and sacrifices. It becomes a celebration, not an exam. And this isn’t unique to us runners – turns out it’s kind of a human thing.

“Of all the things that can boost emotions, motivation and perceptions…the single most important thing is making progress in meaningful work.” – The Power of Small Wins, Amabile & Kramer, HBR.

Yep. I just quoted Harvard Business Review in Trail Run Mag.

If you’ve run an ultra you know that there comes a moment when you fall to the bottom of the well. Everything hurts and you want to quit. The trick is to greet those emotions as a visitor we were expecting, say hi, acknowledge them and then keep moving along as we wait for the right time to usher them out the door.

You are not your emotions. You are your reaction to them. Don’t fight the inevitable. Expect it, sit with it all awhile, and remember that this too shall pass.

I love a good race report. I’ve written plenty myself. Most of which have never seen the light of day. But it can be a healthy and constructive way to relive and review. Step back and see what you did achieve, what you overcame. Re-order and re-orient it all in your mind. To broadcast, even if it’s to yourself, that it is indeed enough.

If it helps, share your story with others, reach out, post it in your favourite running group, go for a recovery run with some mates. If the storm won’t clear, talk to a professional. You wouldn’t hesitate to get a massage or see your physio or chiro so why not someone to help you work out the knots and soreness between your ears?

Now that we’ve chatted about what it looks like when it feels rough, let’s shine some lights and lift the mood. What does it look like when it feels good?

The world needs fewer pontificators and more practitioners so it’s all fine and dandy for me to sit here typing away about how to be the happiest trail runner in the world, but can I take my own medicine?

Good question. I did take my own medicine and here’s what happened.

After conquering the 614km 6633 in 2019 I admit that I did fall into a deep dark hole. It was unexpected, painful and confusing. For a very long time I struggled with the desperate need to fill that gaping void with another event of equally ridiculous proportions.

The blues are real and I’ve seen and experienced this personally many, many times in my coaching business. The key is to allow time for the dust to settle, process your goals, drive, or motivation, then kick on with the next ‘thing’.

But the next ‘thing’ doesn’t have to be another massive endurance event, as quoted by coach and athlete Mark Whittle. Mark and I have both raced across some of the frozen expanses of the world and I took his advice this heart.

I’m not the next event; neither is my TSS (training stress score). My ‘major event’ scorecard sat empty for three long years until I found the right event for me at a time that was right from me.

In March 2023 I headed to Sweden to race in the Montane Lapland Arctic Ultra, a 503km backcountry single stage self-supported race through Europe’s last great wilderness. It was brutal, and after eight soul crushing non-stop days of grind and grit in -35c, I crossed the finish line and claimed second place.

But the real victory for me was what happened next.

I reflected on the sheer volume of work it took to even get to the start line. I rejoiced in the clarity and quiet that comes after such an event where you spend over a week, 24 hours a day operating totally alone in silence. The race very nearly broke me, in every way, but I drew solace and pride from knowing that my training sustained me and allowed the delivery of a performance I honestly thought was completely beyond my capacity. It became a celebration of my training and preparation.

I wrote my race report and realised that it was enough. That I was enough. That the result was enough. I didn’t need the next thing; that’s what other people want.

I came home to family, friends, recovery, work, laughter and no training. And no black dog.

And sure enough, about two weeks after I got home, that little voice said, ‘Can we go for a run?’ Because we love the work, the freedom of the trails and when we stack enough work together we get the reward to race again.

TRM is hopeful that by amplifying Paul’s message, we’re helping raise awareness about mental health and depression post-race. If this story resonates with you or anyone you know, you can call Lifeline on 13 11 14 (AU) or 0800 543 354 (NZ).

WORDS: RICHARD NEGUS IMAGES: MALCOLM MCRAE, JACK PREBBLE

As the world continues to place greater importance on ethical consumption, it has become increasingly important for endurance races to align with these principles. You could argue that runners nowadays are not only looking for events that provide an honest challenge but ones that also place an emphasis on sustainability and the environment. These themes were the centerpiece on a stunning autumn day at Island Hills Station in April. Race Director Richard Negus gives us the low-down on Skedaddle, a brand new New Zealand trail running event where nature is the number one motive.

29 APRIL 2023 – NORTH CANTERBURY, NEW ZEALAND: After almost two years of hard work and having navigated the storm that was COVID-19, the time finally came to welcome runners from across Aotearoa to a hidden gem at the foot of the Southern Alps.

The majestic Island Hills Station, located about an hour and a half north of Christchurch, was to become centre stage for a brand new trail running event called Skedaddle. The race was conceived as a means of raising funds for conservation work within the Mandamus Preservation Reserve. This 3,300ha un-grazed area includes one of the largest QEII Open Space Covenants in Canterbury. To enable conservation activities such as pest, predator and weed control, the farm generates limited resources from Manuka honey, Beech honeydew and tourist activities. Most of the conservation work is carried out by volunteers and recreational hunters. Property owners Dan and Mandy Shand set a lofty goal of one day reintroducing the iconic kiwi to this hidden corner of North Canterbury and what better way to raise awareness than a trail run through their backyard!

Aptly named after the highest peak on the property, Mt Skedaddle (1704m), the event saw hundreds of runners from across Aotearoa sign up to #RunForNature. With four race distances on offer, Skedaddle had something for everyone.

The longest course, and what is considered the flagship race, is the 42km ‘Two Tunner’, which was given its name due to the 2000m+ of elevation gain. The 30km ‘Wilderbeast’ offers a slightly shorter option for those wanting to experience a slice of the pristine native bush and striking mountain vistas. Short and steep, the 15km ‘Dozer Line’ course climbs to the highest elevation of all four races via a steep track that was carved out by a well-known local bulldozer. The 4km ‘Weaning Muster’ rounds things out and provides the little ones with a whirlwind tour of the farm and expansive views of Mt Skedaddle and the impressive Organ Range.

Taking on the role of Race Director for a brand new event brings with it a lot of pressure but also bucket loads of excitement. Being able to shape the event at every step of the way is about as liberating as it gets. And as a passionate trail runner, you do not want to leave a single stone unturned when it comes to organising an event for your fellow trail running buddies!

I remember the day I first met Shaun Monk, the Walking Track Operator at Island Hills Station. Often referred to as the ‘Bush Janitor’, Shaun is the face of the Island Hills Station Walking Track and the man primarily responsible for developing and maintaining the vast network of trails. His passion for the outdoors is infectious and following a whirlwind tour of the property, I simply knew that we had to deliver a trail running race. Fast-forward 18 months from our initial meeting and without the threat of COVID-19 cancelling events, we finally got to work on launching Skedaddle.

The role of a Race Director is perhaps one of the most varied of all professions and one that is often misunderstood. One minute you can be writing health and safety plans, coordinating volunteers or liaising with sponsors; the next minute you’re out on the trails with a backpack full of signage and flagging tape! That is why I enjoy the role so much since no two days are ever the same.

The time and effort required to stage a race of this scale is monumental and without the support of the Event Goals team and our amazing volunteers, Skedaddle certainly wouldn’t have been possible. The lead-up to race day typically involves long hours but you always manage to adapt and get through the never ending list of tasks without ever losing any enthusiasm. I guess that comes down to the fact that you’re always focused on delivering a first-class athlete experience; a mantra that was shared by myself and the rest of the event team. Ultimately, you want your participants to go away from the race feeling elated, despite how sore their bodies may feel.

Before you know it, race day is upon you and the nerves begin to set in. “Have we marked the course to the highest possible standard? Have we made it too challenging? Will the athletes like the medals?” There are a myriad of thoughts circulating in your mind in the hours before the klaxon sounds. And then of course there is always the weather to contend with. Fortunately, the weather gods were looking out for us this year and it turned out to be a spectacular North Canterbury day.

My focus has always been centered on making memories. If you create something special then people will naturally find out about it and support it in whatever way(s) they can. Whether that is by sponsoring, volunteering or participating. When we first set the ambitious goal of welcoming 400 runners to Island Hills Station, we knew that it was going to be a monumental challenge, especially for a first-time event. With so many standout races to choose from, and considering the rising cost of living, who was going to be prepared to put their hand into their pocket and sign up to our race?

To our delight, over 420 runners committed themselves to run for nature at the inaugural race. An achievement that ranks near the very top for myself and the team who have given so much to bring Skedaddle to life.

It’s hard to describe the feeling as you watch scores of runners cross the finish line, all from different walks of life and all having achieved their own personal goals. Everyone’s journey to the start line is different and so too are their motivations to run. And that is the beauty of the sport of trail running and the incredible community that has been built up around it.

I’m excited to see where this special event will go in the future and how the proceeds will help to restore biodiversity for future generations to enjoy as they skedaddle along the trails!

If you are looking for a new trail run to add to your calendar for 2024 then look no further than Skedaddle! Visit skedaddle.co.nz to find out more.

Event: Skedaddle

Location: Island Hills Station, North Canterbury, NZ

Distances: 42km, 30km, 15km, 4km

When: 27 April, 2024

Info: skedaddle.co.nz

A

. 10-year-old Lilliana Roberts took 1st Female in the Kids 4km Skedaddle. Image: Jack Prebble.

. 15km Skedaddle entrant Victoria Whitmore gets a high five from the sidelines as she comes in to the finish line. Image: Jack Prebble.

This page:

. The start of the 42km Skedaddle. Image: Malcolm McRae.

In 2023, the RunNation Film Festival enters its electrifying ninth year, fueling our souls with an exhilarating adventure like never before. Join running legends, fearless athletes, and thrill-seekers f rom across the globe as we unveil a mind-blowing collection of shor t films. Prepare to be captivated by breathtaking narratives that celebrate the indomitable human spirit, using running as a powerful medium of stor y telling. Brace yourself for an adrenaline-fueled spectacle that transcends boundaries, igniting your spirit and leaving you yearning for more. This is not just a festival; it's a pulse-pounding celebration of the extraordinar y, uniting a worldwide community in the pursuit of awe-inspiring triumphs and unforgettable journeys.