The Adventure Alternative: Part One - Graeme Donnan

“Your success is determined by your efforts and not by results, and you may come to realise that the most important journey is the journey inwards.”1

An exhausted Graeme after the High Peak Marathon, March 2006

Back in the early seventies I was a student at Charlotte Mason College of Education in Ambleside. The college has since changed its name, but it’s still there doing much the same job, turning naïve young students into naïve young teachers. I wasn’t enticed there by any grandiose ideas about being a professional educator, my interest was in the Lake District and the opportunity to train as an outdoor pursuits instructor. Having been initiated into the world of mountaineering by my older brother, I knew that the great outdoors was the life for me, although it would more likely lead to rags than riches.

At that time the course in outdoor pursuits was lead by Colin Mortlock, a highly experienced sea canoeist, mountaineer and visionary in the world of outdoor education. He was my mentor and instructor for two years, while I learned to canoe, coasteer, run gorges, surf, pothole and micro-navigate. Sadly, over thirty years later I have lost many of the skills I learnt, especially the fine art of navigating across mountains in search of a nondescript feature barely discernible on the map. Many skills have been forgotten, but not the memories and least of all the reasons for venturing out into the great outdoors.

Colin tried to elaborate his ethos on outdoor education in a book called The Adventure Alternative, first published in 1984. The book took both a practical and philosophical approach to its theme, and suggested that any part of an adventure situation equates to a particular stage according to the quality of the experience.

Put simply, stage one is play; characterized by situations without fear of harm and perceived as pleasant or fun. In stage two we move to adventure. The person is still in control of the situation, is able to use his or her abilities to overcome technical problems and challenges, and there is little or no fear of physical harm. Colin described stage three as frontier adventure, where “the person has fear of physical harm, or physical or psychological stress, and no longer feels complete master of the situation”. There is a degree of uncertainty about the outcome of the situation, but if success is achieved, that adventure situation becomes firmly etched on the person’s memory with feelings of satisfaction and even elation. Finally, there is stage four, and you can probably guess what kind of situation it refers to. In this undesirable stage the person is no longer in control and there is a very real possibility of harm or even death. Any adventure, whether it’s over a few hours or several months, may change from one stage to another in a matter of minutes depending on the circumstances, such as changes in the weather or unforeseen technical issues.

I would suggest that for the most part we place ourselves in situations that correspond to stages one or two, and hopefully never stage four. It is stage three, the “frontier adventure” that presents a real challenge, one that is memorable and takes us well out of our comfort zone. Only by experiencing stage three, by ‘pushing the envelope’ as the saying goes, do we really learn what we can personally achieve. Quite simply, this is one of the main reasons why I enter mountain marathons, other endurance events and an increasing number of so-called adventure races. Do not misunderstand me, I am not suggesting that running a marathon or even a 10K race is not challenging or unworthy. For many people even a 5K race would be verging on stage three. However, for most experienced sports people, such events are well within the comfort zone with the only challenge being the discomfort brought on by lactate in the muscles or that nagging running injury that just won’t go away (despite having taken two days rest!). My suggestion is to venture into the unknown and try a challenge that may not have the pre-determined outcome of a PB, PW or just another T-shirt. By venturing into the mountains, and I don’t mean Garth Hill above Gwaelod-y-garth, there is so much to be learnt about yourself, what you can achieve, the physical and technical challenges and of course the chance to commune with mother nature. Of course, before doing so make sure you have the appropriate skills otherwise it will be stage four and not stage three!

For me PBs are rapidly becoming a memory so I am having to focus my limited talents elsewhere to achieve satisfaction and set new personal goals. I will never stand on the podium in front of those who competed, but I have my own mental podium and I know after an event like the OMM/KIMM² where in my mind I should stand. It’s not about the results page on our web site, it’s not even about the club championship (despite my proposal for an off-road championship!), it’s about the journey, about being in the arena, judging your success by your efforts and not your result. Or as Lance Armstrong might say, “it’s not about the bike”.

Let me explain this in a different way. Have you reached that stage in life where you have regrets? I have. Do not worry, I’m not going to list them all here. I shall mention just two regrets.

Many years ago, when I was in my teens, I was an passionate cyclist. I belonged to the Bradgate Cycling Club in Leicester, which I think still exists today. I vividly recall being described as “a cyclist with some limited potential”. As a schoolboy cyclist I achieved some modest success, at least within the club. My regret is that I gave up cycling. It seemed like the right decision at the time, with A levels looming and the perceived need to enter university. But with hindsight, I could have juggled cycling with study and at least returned to cycling after my A levels.

A second regret is that years ago I once threw away a modest collection of books on mountaineering and exploration, simply because I had no space where to store them. I’m not referring to modern books, such as those written by Joe Simpson or even Sir Ranulph Fiennes. I’m referring to the founding fathers of modern mountaineering and exploration, such as Edward Whymper, Eric Shipton, Frank Symthe, Heinrich Harrier, Sven Hedin and Geoffrey Winthrop Young, to name but a few. As a youngster, I found their writing (especially Shipton), nothing short of inspirational. Depictions of the Himalayas, the Alps and other great mountain ranges were both vivid and surreal. Vivid to the extent you felt you were there on the expedition, but surreal in the sense that these places could not be real, could not be anywhere on this earth. After reading about early exploration in East Africa I once traced an imaginary journey from the top of Mount Kilimanjaro across the grassland to Mount Kenya. (Years later, in the eighties, that was one dream I actually achieved, albeit mainly by Land Rover.) I regret throwing those inspirational books away. Those denizens of the mountains seemed more able to capture in words the ethereal, even numinous experience of mountain travel than any of our modern authors, perhaps with some exceptions. I was able to empathize with their feelings towards the great outdoors, despite my total lack of familiarity with such an environment. Which brings me to what I will never regret, and that is, the opportunities I have made (and I do mean made, they do not happen by chance) to go trekking, climbing, canoeing and more recently, participate in mountain marathons.

Not only is our sport, in whatever guise is your preference, a commitment to maintaining health, it can be a commitment to your soul. As Fred Zohe wrote in The Zen of Running: “What is good for the body is good for the whole man. Our spirit is not separate from our body, any more than the water is separate from the stream. The water is the stream.”³

Oh, and by the way, there is a third regret. I never did enter an occupation that keeps me in the great outdoors. I work in a stuffy office.

Part two to follow.

Enjoy your running my friends.

Graeme Donnan

1. The Adventure Alternative, Colin Mortlock, 1984, Cicerone Press, ISBN 0 902 363 33 6