Nature Having its Way: Ultramarathoner Conquering Italy

David Orr is a Canadian-born computer engineer living in Italy. He is also an ultramarathoner who spent three months running the entire peninsula of Italy—a distance of 3,500 kilometers—starting at Mount Etna in Sicily and finishing at Mont Blanc in the Alps. I had the incredible opportunity to speak with David about a multitude of different topics, ranging from psychogeography and biophilia to the uniqueness of ultramarathon running, all connecting back to the overarching idea of the importance of spending time outside in the natural world we find ourselves in.

Ultramarathon running is an extended form of a marathon that can range in distance from 55 kilometers to 3500 kilometers. Now, this may sound absolutely horrifying to most people, but to ultra runners, it is enlivening. For David, ultra running provides an opportunity to connect on a profound level with his surroundings. With ultra running, David said that he feels a need to “match the energy of his surroundings.” He derives the adrenaline that comes with running for hours and days from the isolation, stillness, and immensity of the mountains he runs among. Spending prolonged periods of time out in the elements, pushing himself to maximum physical exertion, causes David to feel a heightened connection to the natural world, one that is difficult to experience under less extreme circumstances. 

In my conversation with David, he told me that one of the concerns people had for him during his ultimate ultramarathon was his exposure to the “wild,” in particular, the absence of shelter. This, in turn, led us to a discussion regarding the enormity of the natural world, and to the idea of Italy being perfectly suited for long distance running, due to its nice mix of wild and more civil, populated areas. In reality, Italy is not as wild as many other parts of the world, such as the western United States and parts of Canada. And truthfully, the “wild” shouldn’t necessarily be met with fear, but instead met with awe and gratitude. “Wild,” David says, “is nature having its way.”

David is, no surprise, fascinated by psychogeography and biophilia. Personally, these are terms that I have been seeking for years now—in fact, I didn’t even know they existed. David explained how being outside, around tremendous features of nature, can alter the way a person thinks and feels. For example, one of the more prominent feelings might be that of minuteness that comes with surrounding oneself with enormous, age-old mountains under a sprawling sky that has been around for billions of years. 

I live and go to school in Florence, a metropolitan area, yet I associate my roots with Clinton Corners, New York, a rural area teeming with wilderness, mountains, lakes, and wildlife. Often, I have found that both my moods and behaviors shift depending on my setting. In Florence, I face a quicker pace of life, with school, friends, and plans for my future. It sometimes feels as though I am caught in a neverending whirlpool of deadlines. In Clinton Corners, I get to just exist. Time moves more slowly, so I appreciate it more fully than in Florence. While I don’t need to attend school in Clinton Corners, I believe that the geography in which I find myself may factor into that difference. For example, unlike Florence, Clinton Corners is not subject to light pollution. Stepping outside on a brisk August night to stare up at the plethora of stars that dot the sky breeds introspection and invites me to wonder about what, exactly, the world holds in store for me. 

My interaction with David Orr led me to investigate the concept of psychogeography and, subsequently, to discover the notion of biophilia. Both have roots in the 20th century. Psychogeography, examining the relationship between one’s surroundings and their emotions, was coined by theorist Guy Debord in 1955. Biophlia, devised by naturalist Edward Wilson, explores the innate connection humans have with the natural world. 

I realize that there are elements of both in my personal and intellectual curiosities, and I plan to continue studying them. (Please visit my blog post “About This Innisfree Project” to learn more about both of these concepts.)

David also told me about the people he met along his journey to Mont Blanc. Generally, his journey was viewed by those who knew about it as extreme and most certainly ambitious. Those he encountered at the start didn’t believe he would go so far, and those he encountered at the end couldn’t believe he had made it that far. Astonishment followed him throughout his journey, but David took the time to speak to the individuals he encountered. For David, the most special part of talking with these people was how their eyes would light up when he asked about something truly meaningful to them, a small detail that was refreshing during his long journey. 

Speaking with David has made me wonder about how different settings impact my outlook and way of being. Instead of rushing from one thing to the next, as I feel I do in Florence, I find myself with the ability to slow down and take smaller steps in rural environments, which allow me to see life from a different perspective. David approaches life not with the destination in mind, but rather the journey towards his end goals. This message is one I will carry with me as I navigate my own life. 

Overall, David’s ultramarathon running, though not without its challenges, has offered experiences that allow him to connect with the natural world and live in a way that aligns with the world as it is at its purest: a place where nature has its way..