Mackenzie L. Havey - The Perfect Run: A Guide to Cultivating a Near-Effortless Running State

PRAISE FOR MACKENZIE L. HAVEY

Mackenzie does a beautiful job of diving deep into what makes the perfect run and how we can experience it on a more frequent basis. If you are looking for consistency in your running, I strongly recommend The Perfect Run .

Bestselling author and US Olympian, Ryan Hall

Go ahead and chase perfection in your running, but understand that perfect is an experience, not an outcome. This is the message I took away from The Perfect Run , and I hope I never forget it.

Matt Fitzgerald, author of Life Is a Marathon

Reading The Perfect Run is sure to increase your appreciation and enjoyment on the run, and thats a big payback.

Amby Burfoot, Runners World Magazine

In this age of distraction, we would all benefit from being more present more often. Mackenzie L. Havey shows how and why to achieve this goal in your running, and how that practice can benefit you in your non-running hours.

Scott Douglas, Runners World Magazine

Mindful running has changed my life for the better when Im feeling overwhelmed, stressed or anxious, pulling on my trainers is my form of therapy.

Huffington Post

Mindful Running is the bridge to using your body, mind and surroundings to get the most out of your running

Deena Kastor, Olympic medallist and US marathon and half-marathon record holder

From the very first page I was hooked. I loved this book.

Terry Pearson, leading mindfulness instructor

A great read for anyone who, like us, struggles to fit running in around work and life, by explaining the benefits of taking the time out and running more mindfully, which has a great, positive impact on all areas of your life.

Run Deep Magazine

For Jason, Welly, Liesl, and Liv,

Always there to remind me

when to take my feet outside.

Contents

The shrill bugle call of an elk horn sounds and 800 runners spring from the starting line. Aside from a delicate haze on the horizon and the vague smell of bonfire, there is little evidence of the countless wildfires burning across the western United States. Cowbells clang on either side of the trail lined with spectators clad in colorful insulated jackets, fitted trucker caps, and trail running shoes. I sport spandex capris and a paper-thin orange singlet with sunglasses and a hat that shades my face. The morning air fills my lungs and feels cool and crisp on my skin as we ascend our first climb.

It is Labor Day weekend 2017 and I am running the 6.8-mile (11-km) race that is part of The Rut mountain running series in Big Sky, Montana. The premier event, the 50K race, was the first U.S. race to be part of the International Skyrunning Series, bringing in some of the best of the best in ultra mountain running talent from around the world each year. Despite the shorter distance, the 11K race also attracts a crowd of supremely fit, hard-core athletes. Starting at Big Sky Resorts base area at around 7,500 feet (2,286 meters), it includes 1,700 feet (518 meters) of elevation gain and 1,700 feet (518 meters) of loss over single-track trails and rocky dirt roads.

Being a through-and-through flatlander from Minneapolis, this is a lung-busting amount of climbing for me, especially at altitude. Adding to the challenge is the fact that this is my initial race back after giving birth to my daughter, our firstborn. Her first birthday is just a few days away. While I ran through 40 weeks of pregnancy and had been back logging miles for months, I havent stepped up to a race start line since Ironman Wisconsin almost two years prior. I feel out of my element both racing and being away from my daughter. While she is too young to understand it now, I remind myself that in a few years, seeing her mom run up mountains could make an impression.

The perfect run can come in many shapes and forms.

As we scale the backside of Andesite Mountain on ski resort territory, the trail takes us over long climbing switchbacks. The biggest climb of the race starts in a tall grass alpine meadow around the first mile marker and doesnt top out until mile 5 (8 km), totaling 1,500 feet (457 meters) on that section. As we clamber upward, the line of runners slows for a moment, halted by the arresting beauty of the sun-soaked valley below. I think about how I want to bring my daughter to this spot one day.

With rocks and boulders on either side of the narrow trail of exposed ridgelines, I choose to follow the line of runners making their way up the mountain, occasionally passing or being passed. Around mile 4 (6.5 km), the switchback gets steeper and rockier before we move through a whitebark pine forest over bare loam that springs with each step. Hundreds of cutaneous receptors in my feet fire off sensory feedback in response to the changing terrain.

The light flickering through the trees on either side of the path has a focusing effect, heightening my awareness of every root and rock. The landscape is saturated with changing light, like an Impressionist painting. An elemental consciousness awakens within me as I glide through the passing moment.

Following a wider dirt road to the summit of Andesite Mountain, the location of the only aid station on the course, I feel a familiar exertional burn in my legs and lungs as the altitude deprives my body of oxygen. I forgot how remarkably nourishing this kind of hurt can feel. I gaze off into the distance as the dark outline of the 11,000-foot (3,353-meters) Lone Peak snaps into focus.

After hastily downing a cup of water, I let my legs take me down a dirt road to an abrupt turnoff that leads back into the outstretched branches of the forest. To descend on to the trail, I line up behind a few other runners and one by one we take hold of a thick, natural-fiber manila rope tied around a massive, ancient driftwood stump. I quickly lower myself down the steep embankment backward, feeling my hands burn over the stiff bristle as I reach the bottom and turn to run.

A sense of euphoria and propulsive energy takes hold. Cruising down the resorts lower ski runs, the air temperature rises. I pass a friendly, loquacious brook littered with dry logs and mountain detritus. Trees whisper by on either side and I precisely negotiate rocks and sudden turns almost without thinking. In this moment, my body and mind work in perfect tandem. Its as if I am under a hypnotic spell dictated by the rhythm of my feet and the sound of my breath.

Emerging from the trees, I scramble down the final descent over burrowed-out dirt footholds in the single track. I reenter a portal that leads back into my previous plane of existence, spitting me out within earshot of the brassy clangor of cowbells and blare of metal music. I feel like I am gliding without effort, maybe even flying, as I cross the finish line. In my happy exhaustion, I take stock of what has just unfolded. This, I know, is the perfect running experience.

***

The Paradox of Perfection

In the modern-day definition of the word, perfection generally denotes flawlessness. Its a condition in which a level of excellence cant be exceeded. A perfect test score is characterized by all correct answers to the questions on an exam. A perfect game in baseball is one during which a pitcher pitches at least nine innings without allowing a single runner on base. Perfection conjures up images of harder-to-define conditions too, like the perfect body, perfect health, perfect mate, even the perfect life as viewed through the lens of social media.