Recently I bore witness to a competition of sorts, and the aftermath of the results.  Now, I say ‘of sorts’ because some people would consider the prize a punishment rather than a gift.  A call went out for anyone interested, to apply to be trained and supported all the way up to (12 months worth) and entry into, a 200 mile running race.

Crazy right?!!  You betcha.  To anyone interested in running though, this is the ultimate opportunity.  The entry fee alone into these types of races is high, $1000 plus.  Getting there, accommodation, food, equipment, training and body maintenance (think physio, podiatry, OT, chiro, strength & conditioning training…etc) are all added expenses.  For the average Joe the cost is simply prohibitive and so even considering whether you are capable of such a feat or not becomes null and void.

With this enormous prize at stake and knowing I’d give it a decent crack if I had the chance, I sent in an application.  Of nearly 50 applicants, 12 semifinalists were chosen.  I was not one of them.  However, someone I know was selected.

So it began, I followed the training of all of the semifinalists with a curious and envious eye.  It didn’t take me long to make some general observations about the group chosen as contenders for this opportunity.

Firstly, the vast majority were mostly in the ‘mature’ age group – over 30 years old and at least half I think were over 40.  I wondered if the applicants as a whole who applied where in this age bracket too.  And if so, is that because we have had more exposure to life’s ugly side than our younger cohorts?  So we already know within ourselves we have the mental strength to get us through 200 miles of physical hardship? Maybe.

Secondly, each semifinalist had had a major negative life experience of some description in their past, or were still suffering in the present.  Be it a physical or mental episode, or combination of both, their stories are ones you wouldn’t wish on anyone.  I’m pretty sure this is where I was discounted as a contender.  I have been fortunate enough in my life thus far, to have avoided any major traumas.  In saying this, I do not deny any of the semifinalists their having been chosen.  We all deserve to prove to ourselves and others that we can survive anything, and that an experience like this may very well change the lives of those who have experienced the truly ugly side of life, for the better, more than it would someone like myself.

Next, was the physical appearance of each person.  A true cross-section of the human form.  Some who looked physically able to give it a good go without too much trouble, right across the board to those that would require some pre-training training to even get them to begin the long haul to the start line.

Across the month of training they were put through, some folk were very serious and didn’t give much away while others were more candid, casual and even tardy at times.

It was a mixed bag of people, like liquorice allsorts if you will.

Similar to any diverse group of people, each semi-finalist experienced their own journey, and went through their own “stuff” during this time.  Not least because of the endless encouragement to open up and share with everyone – think Facebook – their current emotions and pros & cons of the programme for the week.  Share their reason for applying in the first place, share their struggle to fit in the training around their normal lives involving family & work, share their feelings, experiences….share, share, share.

But what all this sharing really exposed to me as a bystander, was the ripping apart of the scars that had taken many long and difficult hours to close over and heal the wounds inflicted on each individual by their past personal traumas.  I had to wonder if this was really a good thing.

Encouraging some of the most vulnerable individuals to lay open their souls to public judgement and ridicule (be honest, this is exactly what we as people do to each other) was never going to be the best idea ever.  Was it?  No.  Sure, supply them with “psychological”  support for the month of training, but what about once the finalists are announced and everyone goes back to their life before the competition?

I spent many an hour speaking with several semifinalists during their time of training, in the weeks before the finalists were chosen, and also since that very public disclosure of who had been given the final nod of approval.

Yes, approval.  We approve that you are good enough to do this.

Did it cross anyone’s minds as to how those not named would react to this?  A very loud and resounding “YOU ARE NOT GOOD ENOUGH” is what was feared and heard on that day.  Not only were these concerns voiced in the conversations I had with people, but it was written clear as day on their faces during the presentation.

To the sensitive folk that made up this grouping, this kind of slap in the face and feelings of inadequacy, was everything they had likely fought tooth and nail to overcome in the past and they had just found themselves right back at square one, or even further back than they had ever been before.

Confusion was, and still is, the biggest feeling amongst those I am in contact with.  Confused about what had been expected of them in the first instance – what to write in the application to be accepted as a semi-finalist.  Then, what on earth had they actually written that got them selected and hence forth what to try and work on and show the selection panel why they should be a finalist?  Was it physical ability?  Was it a mental strength?  Was it an interest in the systematic piecing together of elements that would get them to the start line of a 200 mile race?  Was it being that squeaky wheel and grabbing their attention every chance they got?  What could they possibly have done differently to make the judges take notice of them?

Knowing who the finalists are now has not made the decision process any clearer to the rest of the group as to why they were not chosen or to what they could have done differently to have been selected instead.  There was always going to be just two out of 12 to continue on this journey, but how pray-tell did the organisers plan on dealing with those that FAILED in their quest?  Are they even aware of the havoc they have wreaked in the lives of those “not good enough” to continue?  Are they attuned to the fallout of the encouraged emotional outpouring during the selection process and the life foundations they have shattered in doing so?  Do they know what the families and friends surrounding the unsuccessful are now dealing with?  Or how those families and friends may have been affected themselves by a loved-ones forced return to the deepest darkest parts of their lives?  Their defeat and subsequent backslide into mental anguish, self abuse or isolation?  It doesn’t appear so.

Would I apply for something similar in the future?  Most likely not.  Would I support or recommend anyone else apply for something like this?  Tentatively, yes.  BUT,  I would try and instil in them a healthy dose of scepticism and forewarning of what could be at stake.  I would ask them to be honest with themselves, are they strong enough to fail?  Is their skin thick enough to withstand the naysayers along the way?  Are they gutsy enough to support fellow competitors rather than tear them down?  Are they willing to run a fair and honest race without manipulating in any way shape or form, those that will be choosing the finalists?

Are they brave enough to say ‘no’ if they are not?

By elevating a precious few, we down tread the masses.  In current times we have the technology that allows a more rampant spread of attention seeking, bullying, judgement, ridicule and self-loathing than ever before.  We as a society seem to be becoming a more sensitive and anxious bunch as the years go by due to this ease of communication.

Should we then, not know better than to set people like this up to fail?  Should we not set-up a solid framework to support them when they do?  Was this the best way to go about trying to change the lives of , and inspire other people, into showing them that they are good enough, that they are deserving of more, that they are capable of being loved and giving love?  That they can have peace in their lives?  I don’t think so.

AND, who is accountable when an individual does the unthinkable due to not making the cut?

Just quietly, at this point I am mighty glad I wasn’t chosen as a semifinalist. My view from the sidelines was more than enough.