By HPRS RD John Lacroix
This article is part 2 in a multi-part series that discusses our commitment to accessibility at HPRS. You can read part 1 by Clicking Here, an article that focuses on entry fees and discounts. In this article, we’re going to discuss why HPRS does not have a podium or age group awards and how this contributes to our commitment. On this topic, we also welcome you to listen to HPRS Podcast Episode 8: Why We Don’t Have A Podium or Age Group Awards.
In the near twenty years that I have been an ultramarathon runner, I have been able to finish trail and ultra-distance events all over the spectrum of finishing places. I have finished in the top third, and in the top three. I have finished in the bottom third and the bottom three (but never DLF). For the most part I have spent my twenty years in ultra, finishing races somewhere in the middle of the pack. I have trained incredibly hard wherein I have completed advanced blood work analysis, changed my diet, lost thirty pounds, ran 60-80 miles a week for weeks on end, and I have experienced the fruits of that labor firsthand. I have also completed ultras with little to no training, letting pizza and beer be my diet, and limped my way through the finish line.
With the experience I possess, here is what I can tell you.
Yes, there are a lot of people out there who have a tremendous genetic gift that affords them an opportunity to perform at a much higher level than others. There are a lot of people who have the gift of time; time to train, time to train some more, and the time to do the testing to get the human machine to operate at optimal performance. There are a lot of people who have the financial ability to take more time off from work, to buy the fancier gear, to run more races, to run in more places, and to commit more to the hobby of trail and ultrarunning.
I can tell you that there is a lot of people who do not possess the genetic gift, and they perform at the level with which their body allows them. There are people who do not possess the gift of time, and they put in what time and energy life presently allows them. There are people who lack the funds to take time off from work, to race as much as they want to, to run in the places they wish to, to buy all the fancy gear, and lack the opportunity to fully commit to this hobby of trail and ultrarunning.
We are all recreating as trail and ultramarathon runners with a different set of tools at our disposal. I often think about the single mom of three, and the tremendous amount of sacrifice and struggle she must endure just to train herself enough to make it to the start line, never mind the finish line, without being injured or overextended. When I think of her, I think of the many “elite” runners in our sport who don’t have kids or perhaps even a place to live. I think about how the single mom of three may not have had a choice in becoming that single mom of three, while the elite have had nothing but the privilege of choice in living a dirtbag lifestyle, which affords them every opportunity to excel within our sport.
So, who are we to put ANYONE up on a pedestal just because they’re faster than everyone else?
It is my firm belief that everyone has sacrificed much to be able to attend on race day. Everyone has put in the work that their life’s circumstances, and their personal decisions, allows. Everyone has an imperfect body that works or doesn’t depending on genetic predispositions, and the ability we are able to expertly, or flippantly, care for it. From the get-go, the “race” is unfair. None of us are running on the same trail or on the same playing field.
I also look at some of the other realities of running vast distances. You and 300 other runners could be taking on the same 50-Mile or 100-Mile course, but not all 300 runners may be running the same course under the same conditions. For example: A torrential and severe thunderstorm rolls over the course near the back of the pack, and while they endure the brunt of the storm the front runners are unaffected. In this example, have the front runners and the back of the pack run the same race? Sure… the same route, but the same “race” could be argued against.
The weather is one of many variables that come in to play at each trail and ultrarunning event. We each train differently, eat differently, face different weather extremes, some of us even face aid stations that have run out of food and/or water while the front of the pack got ALL the food and water. So, is it really “fair” to stick a few folks up on a pedestal to celebrate their run?
When I started HPRS, one of my main goals was to host a race series that aligns with the values and ethos of ultramarathon running that I personally aligned with over the first decade I was a participant in the sport. Probably the biggest thing that made me feel at home, was that while we could celebrate the winners and marvel at their accomplishments, every runner got the same finisher’s award from first to second to last. Many of the ultras I ran in during my first decade all had a DFL award, something that has mostly been lost along the way. It wasn’t really until Anton arrived that the podium suddenly mattered or even existed. In fact, I never saw an actual physical podium at an ultra until I started running races out west.
What is wrong with just celebrating everyone equally?
When I’ve thought about prize money, it’s always been something that has offended me as a runner. My thought has always been, “You mean to tell me that instead of better swag, and better aid stations, a percentage of my entry fees is being put into a pot of cash for the top finishers?! Give me the better aid stations and to hell with them!” Most times the front runners didn’t even pay to get into the race, and it has been everyone else who runs behind them, the mortal, who pay not only for their presence, but for their winning. Gross.
I also think that prize money is the number one cause of internal strife within our sport. It is because of prize money that we debated whether marijuana is a performance enhancing drug, and if those who use it should be drug tested and/or disqualified. It is because of prize money that we first engaged in the conversation around bridging the gender gap between men and women athletes, as we investigated prize money being higher for men than it is women. It is because of prize money that we are now engaged in a debate over transgender/non-binary individuals and what “gender” class they belong in and/or if they’re even eligible for the money. It is because of prize money that a 100-Miler in Colorado allows you to label yourself a tortoise or hare, something many of us view as offensive. It is because of prize money that some elite choose to run specific races, and not others, either elevating a races visibility or keeping it in the dark.
Besides paying the elite for genetic gifts and or life choices, what other good has prize money provided our sport? If answering, provide indisputable evidence to back up your answer.
When I’ve thought about age group awards, I’ll be honest in saying that I’ve only ever viewed them as a way to stroke the egos of those not talented enough to reach the actual podium. I know a lot of folks are chomping at the bit to disagree here, and to debate this position, and I understand how my opinion may have some of you feeling touched by an angel. I’ll be honest; even I have run in an ultra, only to proclaim at the end that I came in 1st place for runners from Colorado. In continuing with that honesty, there were only 4 or 5 runners from Colorado in the race and I only proclaimed I came in first for runners from Colorado to stroke my poor sensitive ego at the fact that my run was still mediocre at best compared to the rest of the field or compared to the expectations I had set for myself.
I also can’t tell you how many times I have seen only one runner in the 60+ category, or 2 runners in their 50s, or 1 runner in their 20s at ultras. If you were the only person running in the 60+ age group, and by finishing you obviously just won the age group, is it really something worth celebrating and shouting from the mountain tops? How seldom do these folks add to their social media celebrating that they were honestly the only runner in the age group they just won? Look, I’m guilty of it and so are many of you. There is nothing wrong with being honestly introspective with yourself EVEN IF IT HURTS. Why does it even matter?
I can recall a 50k here in Colorado’s Front Range, a race which I have run twice, where the finish line celebration and afterparty was 100% about the elite. I sat in the field next to a babbling brook, while the front runners were coddled, worshiped, and hell… I’ll say it, it felt like one of the front range running groups had taken the entire event over in celebration of their fastest friends. Sure, it’s great for them, for their friends and followers, but for the rest of us in attendance it was as if our accomplishment, our finish, had been depleted to being not only irrelevant, but as if it never even happened. You’re no one unless you’re someone.
Funny story. A few years ago, I accompanied HPRS Assistant Race Director Emily Royal to the Cascade Crest 100-Mile in Easton, Washington. On the morning of the race, we lined up to check-in like everyone else and we were in line next to two other female runners from Colorado (both of which are also members of the group I mention above). One of those female runners proclaimed that she “doesn’t like me because [I] didn’t take any time to celebrate her accomplishment of coming in third at one of the Indian Creek Fifties or remember her name.”
Why this is funny is because in my head I think of the over 10,000 registrations I’ve handled at HPRS and how on earth anyone could expect me to remember every person’s name. I also think of the legendary ultra-runner and race director Dr. David Horton, and what he might say to this young lady. He would likely say, “Why would I celebrate the 2nd loser?” Now, I’m not Doc Horton, but I do look up to him and his way of doing things. Those who know Doc have often said I am the second coming of Doc Horton in Ultra, a moniker I’m proud of. Yet I said nothing, simply walking away from the shade expressed because I honestly don’t have time for someone else’s egocentric problem.
I could go on and on about podiums, age group awards, and prize money. If I did, I would just continue to piss the egocentric off. I’ll openly tell you that in the 20 years I’ve been running, I too am guilty as charged (as mentioned before), before I woke up and realized that the race is only with yourself, and the mountain you climb. I can provide you with countless other stories where someone in the greater trail and ultra-community “doesn’t like” me because I didn’t worship the ground they walk on because of who they think they are, or because of their running performance(s). It’s these behaviors that continue to inform the HPRS position of no podiums, no age group awards, no prize money.
When I think about the word accessibility, I think of its definition first. Accessibility is the practice of making information, activities, and/or environments sensible, meaningful, and usable for as many people as possible.
When I started HPRS, I decided that not having a podium, prize money, and not having age group awards, removes EGO from the equation and affords runners the opportunity to run in races where all peoples, regardless of their abilities, are appreciated and celebrated. Everyone is valued and cared for at HPRS. By removing ego from the equation, it opens the door for many more runners to come and enjoy a day on the trails without feeling like they are less than, not good enough, not talented enough, or like they don’t fit in.
At HPRS we do not provide discounted or complimentary race entries to any person simply because of their running performance(s). We ask that those who wish to receive a discounted or complimentary entry acquire one in the same way everyone else obtains one; by being an active and invested member in our community through volunteer efforts.
Now, usually when I inform an “elite” runner that this is our policy on the subject, 9 times out of 10 they never in fact volunteer. I think that says a lot about the negative realities associated with ego. An even bigger statement is the fact that many “elite” runners send me their running resume in an email, when they request a comp or discounted entry, as if I am supposed to be impressed that they won the first annual Booger Beatdown 50k.
While I am generally impressed by the effort and times that some of the elites are putting out, like many of you, I am not so far impressed that they are going to acquire my admiration complete with me on my knees, bowing to your highness, begging you to come run our race because “if you run, everyone else will sign up to!”
We’ve built an amazing community at HPRS. When you run with us, no… there is no podium, no age group awards, and no prizes; and because we lack these items, we can truly focus on inclusivity, equality, and equity. You won’t find chest thumping or “look at me” here. We don’t have to get into arguments about if men are better than women, or where our non-binary runners fit into the awards structure. We don’t have a need to drug test anyone or embarrass them because of their life choices and/or addictions. We can instead be a place where all are welcome to come and do the good work on themselves and not have to pay any attention to the things that don’t matter, and instead give full attention to the things that do.
We don’t take any portion of your entry fees to give to someone else simply because they were faster than you. Instead, we can spend the money ensuring that the aid stations are full for every runner from 1st to last. We can spend money ensuring that the swag you get is utilitarian. We can even be fiscally responsible with our revenue to ensure that our prices can remain reasonable regardless of global issues like Covid-19 or inflation.
Instead of only posting pictures of the podium and age group winners, we can take pictures of every runner. Instead of celebrating just a few performances or allowing “cliques” to overrun a finish line celebration, we can celebrate all performances and make sure every runner feels a part of the collective. Instead of diminishing or deflating your accomplishment, we can celebrate it with the weight it truly deserves.
Finally, the next question we always get is “So… then, is it even a race?!”
You don’t need a podium, age group awards, or prize money for it to be a “race.” A race also has bib numbers, aid stations/support, shirts, porta potties, insurance, permits, and more. I don’t believe that it’s a podium, awards or prize money that makes a race, THE PEOPLE DO. “The race” is with yourself. “The Race” is between your ears, or between you and the mountain. Just because a race series does not have a podium, age group awards, prize monies does not automatically relegate it to a type of “Fat Ass.” It does, in effect, make it an experience for everyone to share in and enjoy equally.
You may disagree and it’s okay if you do. There’s something out there for everyone. If you require podiums, age group awards, and/or prize money; go get it! You can still run an HPRS race and absolutely CRUSH a course record or beat everyone by hours, and we can still marvel at you and celebrate you without the pomp and circumstance. We can still do all of this, while also respecting the time, energy, and effort everyone has put into their race as well.
Our “Podium Parade” of Champions is held yearly on February 30th. See you there!