The Hard Way: A Manifesto
Saturday 11th April 2020. 1530hrs standing at the end of Narrowneck looking south-east towards Nattai National Park in the distance. For many years I'd come up to the Blue Mountains to train for a specific trail running race and not look beyond the course. I never looked at the map and thought - wow there is so much to see. My focus was narrow and limiting.
Standing at the end of Narrowneck gives you a sense of perspective of what lies beyond the horizon and what we all have access to. I don't think I was yet ready to understand this opportunity. This was simply a run to do on my program. Today was a tough day to be running along a ridgeline. The wind was 55km/hr+, and whilst the sun was out, the 'feels like temperature' was approaching 0C by late afternoon.
The following week I would ride my first double-century bike ride, and my life would never be the same. Strava link for the run.
What is the hardest thing you've ever done?
What could you do if you did the work and backed yourself?
In a decade what will you regret that you didn't do?
The Hard Way is the belief in creating situations of difficulty and backing ourselves through preparation and experience. By choosing to do this, we're creating the defining memories of our lives. On our terms, in our way.
The Hard Way isn't being reckless and stupid. It's asking if we're making safe decisions or choosing to make the world easy and comfortable. Each person will have their own interpretation.
The Hard Way is like a defensive driving course for our lives. Instead of hoping for the best, we prepare for the worst
The premise is simple; the application is not so straightforward. You're choosing to eschew what's obvious and easy. There are two ways to ask the same question. The first is direct: is this the easy way or the hard way? The second is easier to start with: is this what most people do? If yes, then adjust your approach.
When most people stay inside when it's raining, go outside.
When most people rely on others for support, be self-supported.
When most people avoid hot days, head out in the hottest part.
Friday 18th January 2019. 1815hrs on the Maclehose Trail Section 8 in Hong Kong this is part of the final leg of the Vibram Hong Kong 100 trail race. The day is about to get very hard. I wrote on Strava:
"Today was a day when things could have gone wrong easily, but they didn't. I think it's worth noting that the difference between success and failure has more to do with luck than we ever want to appreciate. I got home safe and that's to be celebrated, but I could have easily not got home."
A few of the issues I ran into were; not having a head torch, not enough warm clothes, and no map. The list goes on.
This was one of the first times I was willing to experience hardship, but only when it was forced upon me. I was not ready to go out and seek this. I see this in how I wrote about the experience. You can read my short notes on Strava.
The Hard Way is more than an idea; it's more than a philosophy; The Hard Way is the state of being.
You don't get to opt in when it suits you. Either you embrace the idea with a savage, untamed wildness or stand on the sidelines.
The ferocity with which you embrace the idea is offset by the lightness that comes from accepting our impermanence. This approach is rooted in the belief that our lives end when we do. People will not remember us. Future generations will not retell our stories. When was the last time you spoke about someone that died more than 20 years ago? Knowing that we're quickly forgotten gives us the freedom to pursue The Hard Way for our personal development, not to prove a point or be remembered.
When people reflect on their lives, the experiences that define us and become memorable are the moments when we've had to struggle through difficulty. No one gives a fuck about the fourth season of some TV show that wrote off a weekend.
We remember these experiences in exquisite detail, not because we try to, but because our brain has attached to them an importance we often deny ourselves.
When people speak about these experiences, they are situations they found themselves in, not of their choosing. Their gear has failed, their planning has been poor, or some unexpected hardship has befallen them. You can hear in their voice, given a choice, that they would have preferred to have had a safe and comfortable life, despite recognising the importance of the experience.
Saturday 1st February 2020. 0845hrs running the (Woodford) Oaks Firetrail the classic direction (down the hill). By the end of the run, the temperature would be 44C in the shade (feels like 50.4C). I, of course, was not in the shade. Add at least another 5C (probably more) for being directly in the sun (50C ~ 122F), and you're now at temperatures approximating Death Valley in the middle of summer. I was the only person out on one of the most popular fire trails in the Blue Mountains. Strava link.
Chris Burkard is one of the few people to speak about this idea in his training for riding around Iceland.*
*Note: You can’t find much about this ride as Chris choose not to document the ride, and savour the experience for himself.
In 2020 when I was beginning to realise that I could ride distances further than I thought possible in locations I'd never considered, I would occasionally mention my plans to people. If anyone expressed an interest in my rides, I realised I needed to make them harder. In less than two years this approach took me from riding my first double-century to riding across isolated, rough roads in the middle of summer solo, being told I'd die by the collective wisdom of people on Facebook.
Wednesday 26th January 2022. 0630hrs my campsite at Clare (on someone's property). Zoom out and look at how far away I am from any major town in NSW. I turned up late on day 08 my first bikepacking trip.
The previous evening the owner of the property and his mate turned up and spent an hour telling me I couldn't ride the road I planned to ride tomorrow as I'd get stuck out there and die. No one would find me. I didn't have the heart to tell him I didn't have a satellite phone or any other form of emergency communication. There was a thunderstorm predicted for Thursday, which they were worried about. I did take his mobile number and texted him when I reached Mossgiel.
When I saw the stunning sunrise, I knew I'd take my chances crossing Clare Mossgiel Road. Strava link for day 09.
The Hard Way stands as a lighthouse in the distance. Unwilling to move because you find the concept challenging.
You can either stand back in awe and wonder or start the process of adapting to build your resilience. I hope that as people embrace this approach, we will have more examples of lighthouses worldwide, shining their light on the darkness and showing the way for others to come.
We live in a world of easy distraction and overstimulation. The device you're reading this on is a permanent distraction. A shortcut to a world you'll never experience while staring at a screen.
Most of us choose safe, accessible events believing we're challenging ourselves. I reckon most people know that what they say is bullshit. They're unwilling to back themselves to achieve more. They've created a life where they don't know how to escape mediocrity.
Monday 13th June 2022. 1730hrs standing at the lookout for Norah Head, watching the moon rise as I prepare to continue into the night. I had not planned to visit the lighthouse, but having ridden past the turnoff on more than one occasion, I thought, if I don't go down tonight, when will I ever have the time to make the effort? I was rewarded with this view. This came a bit over halfway through a 400km ride which I called "The Prelude" I wrote on Strava
"I don't know what more to make of this. I set out to do something hard, and this ride is not that."
The photo, the ride, it's a metaphor. Being a lighthouse means you're out there alone. On this ride, I enjoyed all the hard parts (except being incredibly cold in Brooklyn, again). A moment that stood out was riding up Central Coast Highway at 0200hrs on a Tuesday morning under a brilliant display of stars.
You can read the rest on Strava.
The Hard Way is the complete self-development program. There's no fee, no certificate and no completion date. It's up to you to define how you do this.
Those that think they have ascended will never truly be there. Each outcome is a point on the journey. The journey never finishes. One day, you stop. The journey is not the outcome.
The Hard Way's interpretation is different for everyone. Endurance athletics is the path from which The Hard Way was conceived. Years ago, I remembered seeing hundreds of tourists standing at a lookout in the Blue Mountains and realising that almost none of them went more than a few hundred metres beyond the car park. Once you descend into the valley, the experience changes for the better. As my endurance capability increased and I went deeper into the National Park, I continued to gain more from each run. This process continued when I began riding my bike. As the rides became longer and harder, I experienced the full gamut of physical and emotional experiences. Long, hard, endurance athletics combines physical capability, mental fortitude and the experience of seeing places in ways few other people do.
Wednesday 11th July 2018. 0915hrs Huckaby Trail in Sedona - Arizona, USA . This is day four of the Rob Krar Ultra Camp (RKUC), we'll go and run Hangover Trail then go and sit in a cold stream to cool off. I'll leave the camp with my heart full after a few years of dealing with injuries and struggling to find much joy in running.
Four days later on Sunday 15th July 2018 I'll run across the Grand Canyon (R2R) solo in the middle of summer and begin to have my first taste of what's possible with endurance athletics. I will not formulate these ideas until years later. Strava link.
Australia has a history of people pushing their physical capability and mental fortitude to experience places few others do. These people are known as the early explorers.
The Hard Way harks back to an earlier time when the early (white) explorers of Australia traversed the land without a map, without formed roads and certainly without a device on which they pressed a button if they ran into trouble. Some of these people died younger than they should have, and the animals they had with them had tough lives. We shouldn't lionise these explorers, but we should look at what they achieved with their limited resources. We should ask ourselves why, in less than 200 years, few of us are willing to endure hardship.
Looking back to these early explorers should inspire us.
Do you need to go to Innamincka and die where Burke and Wills did? No. Few visit Innamincka, of those that do, almost everyone drives out. Could you walk to Innamincka as Burke & Wills did? That would be a life-changing experience that would require you to embrace The Hard Way.
If you ever stand under those tree(s), having walked to Innamincka, you'll know and understand the quiet satisfaction and deep fulfilment of embracing The Hard Way with a savage, untamed wildness that was always inside you.
I hope you find what you're looking for.
Andrew Pratley
Founder & Custodian
The Hard Way
Okay. I’m in. What’s next?
You can read about what I am doing now.
You can read about my previous trip Melbourne to Sydney.
You can contact me with your vision if you're interested in sponsorship.
You can follow me on Strava.