Ever done a loop course, or perhaps the same race multiple times, when you think you should be experiencing deja vu, but instead you find yourself in unfamiliar territory? You are covering the same ground and your brain is telling you that you should recognize your surroundings…but everything looks, sounds and feels different. It is like you are running through that area for the first time.
Dating is tricky to navigate for the average person. But for ultrarunners, it is like trying to get through an obstacle course blindfolded. There are traps everywhere, and we usually don’t see them until we’ve already fallen in. To help my fellow ultrarunners, I figured I could give some sage dating advice…because who doesn’t want to take dating advice from someone who has been single for over four years! Amiright, laaaaaadies? Guys?
Okay, to make this more understandable, I have sectioned this out into five easy steps, representing five stages of a 100 mile race. Read on and prepare to get your romance mojo going.
Step One: Setting up your online profile (0-10 miles)
First impressions matter, so cultivate your online profile wisely! A hint of sporty works, but avoid the full-blown ultrarunner persona just yet. Think sprite, not red bull.
- Pick a photo of you at the start of a race. One in which you look shiny, full of hope, and spandex-clad before your dreams are shattered a few dozens of kilometres later. Everyone loves spandex – leave nothing to the imagination! You’ve got it, so why not flaunt it across the internet for all to see and examine?
- Do NOT post a photo of you at the end of a race. I know you’re super proud of that race finish, but you probably aren’t seeing the salt caked on the side of your face, the dried snot on your sleeve, or the unidentifiable brown smudges on your pants. Read more
We’ve all said it. How many times have you finished a race and claimed it was your ‘last one’? Feet covered in oozing blisters, muscles trembling from exhaustion and knees caked in dirt and blood, you’ve sworn up and down to friends, family and anyone who might listen that you were officially retiring from the sport. One blogger calls this ‘Serial Race Dementia’, which she defines as “the strong and irrational urge to sign up for a race after you swore that you’d never run again because it chewed you up and spit you back out as a shapeless clump of pain and self-pity the last time you ran it.” Spot on.