A Fell Running Legacy

On giving back more than we take

The grave, decorated with sunflower wreaths, has a simple beauty. Beyond it, headstones are linked by family name. This tiny stone-built church, which lies in the verdant and Herdwick-filled Wasdale valley, is the final resting place of the greatest ever fell runner.

We hadn't come here to visit the grave. Nor were we part of the 1,000 or so fell runners who had crossed the surrounding mountains the previous weekend to accompany Joss Naylor on his final journey through his home valley. Instead, we detoured the end of our run to quietly pay our respects.

Obituaries tell of his running prowess, and how his legendary status was forged on mental fortitude, formed through the adversity of his childhood, but what stuck with me was his authenticity. I had the pleasure of meeting him when I got placed in a fell race a few years ago. He had turned out, driving for nearly two hours to clap and present medals to us, a bunch of slow unknowns, on a wet Saturday in October. He simply turned to me and said, 'It's a good ol' Lakeland day.' And, it was precisely that.

In a world where running, perhaps with the exception of fell running, has become uber-commercialised, Joss ran for the fells and the love of the landscape. Reportedly never earning a penny from his running achievements, his preference was a solitary game that took him and his success far from the public gaze to the wild fell tops and mountains beyond. Perhaps most importantly, as a person, a guardian of the land and in sport, he gave back more than he took.

It was this thought I had as I stood humbled at his graveside. How can we try to build a life that is ambitious yet free from expectation? How can we accomplish our adventure and sporting dreams yet give back more than we take? And how do we hold that relationship with the land over which we move?

And I thought of legacy. I had the previous evening sat around a campfire and talked of this with someone who, like me, had a life-changing experience. After much wine-fuelled rumination, we agreed that we don't get to choose our legacy. Whilst there is much truth in that, if I can aspire to one thing, if I could choose one word, it would be authenticity.

Beyond the seemingly legendary running achievements that define the life of Joss Naylor, he showed us that if we remain connected to the land and live authentically, we can give back more than we take. That seems to me, to be a life very well lived.