Cars and office cyclists pass by the street, and a slight windy breeze caresses the trees outside Fuglen in Oslo. In this bespoken coffee retailer, we meet with Benjamin Rodgers, the guy on Instagram you see running through spectacular scenery from all over the world, from African savannas to the Tibetan mountains. For most people, completing a 200-kilometer race through the wilderness is a once-in-a-lifetime achievement, but for Benjamin, it is a part of his lifestyle.
You can call it trail running, but it's more like adventure racing. The goal is to get from one place to another by any means possible over multiple days, Benjamin explains over the freshly poured coffee.
I did one in São Tomé in Príncipe, a place I'd never heard of until I found the race; it's on a tropical island in the Gulf of Guinea. So that was 200 kilometers. I did one of those backyard ultras where you run a circuit every hour on the hour, and I ended up doing 117 kilometers in one day. I love this setup of multi-day adventure races because you cover a lot of distance, but you also have the downtime in between.
One can wonder where such a specific love for high-intensity exploring might derive from? Born and raised in the Yorkshire Dales National Park, a one-and-a-half hour's drive from Manchester, Benjamin grew up with hills, fields, and forests outside his doorstep. A quick Google search reveals a land of lush, ever-stretching fields only broken up by small drizzling rivers and houses and fences made of stone.
What was it like growing up inside an English countryside postcard?
Living in a tiny town was something I loved when I was a child. Then came the teen years, and I got a bit resentful of it: Oh, why the hell do I live in such a small town? You know the kids' TV show Postman Pat? It's basically that, but in real life, with 100 inhabitants.
How does one fill the days in a place like that?
It was the classic run around to your friends, knock on the door, go off for little adventures, and build tree houses. It was fun, but with small towns, it's easy to encounter some sort of small-town mentality. Luckily for me, both my parents were teachers. Before they had kids, they worked in international schools all over the world. So they've been out in Libya, Saudi Arabia, Colombia, and South America before settling down with their kid.
Sounds like there's an explorer gene running in the family?
It might be. We went hiking every weekend. It is very similar to what you do in Norwegian culture, just more rain and mud. I remember not enjoying it much because I wanted to stay home and play with my friends. Now, I'm very appreciative of having that kind of upbringing. We're free-range children. If the weather was nice, our parents wanted us outside of the house. Our boundaries were, like, oh, don't go past that forest or that field kind of thing. Imagine a group of 8, 9, and 10-year-olds being told, okay, don't go past that forest. Of course, you go past that forest. And as soon as you go past it, there's something else. Since then, I've always thought, okay, what's around the next corner? What's over the next hill?
Like Pocahontas sings in Just Around the Riverbend.
Yeah. It's a hundred percent like that. And I love that song. I don't know. It still lives in me today. And it's because we had such good times exploring when we were younger: going that next little bit and finding new things that excited us. So, it was never hiking or running that I enjoyed, but being out in the world, finding cool stuff, and having fun. That was the general gist of that.
How did all this outdoor exploring shape your connection and relatedness to nature? Have you ever considered it?
I never really thought about it other than feeling that nature is very calming. Being in beautiful settings with limited distractions makes me feel present. Nature has always been there for me. As far back as I can remember, it was just, okay, as soon as you left the house, it was there. It was always present throughout my childhood.
In his twenties, Benjamin studied to be an industrial designer at the Glasgow School of Art. This is where he met two Norwegians who lured him further into the northern hemisphere. His first encounter with the Norwegian winter was at an old relocated setter in his friend's family cabin in Beitostølen. It was minus 20 degrees, with snow sparkling like diamonds under a clear sky. His stay was filled with cross-country skiing trips and warm evening dinners. In May, he revisited and was surprised by the contrast of milieu that met him: warm summer winds blowing through the streets of Oslo, days of sunbathing and swimming in the fjord. Some years after finishing school, he and his girlfriend decided to check out how living in Norway would be, and the rest is history.
I'm very pleased about our choice, and that's just an ode to how happy this place makes me. For example, I can work downtown in an office and still bike home to my apartment at Frysja, which is close to nature.
Earlier, you asked me if I had any dreams or goals in life, and a goal of mine for a long time is what I'm doing now. I got a job at an agency, bought an apartment, and have a sponsor for a hobby I love. I want to remind myself that this was the goal all along. And, you know, it's not toxic, but working in the advertising industry, you meet many people with money and fortunes. And because I was an immigrant boy buying a house on my own without my parents' help, all these people have had houses for a long time. I'm trying to be appreciative of everything I've worked for up to this point and avoiding getting into the rut of always wanting the next big thing.
When people ask me what we have been up to and how things are going, I'm like, we're cruising at a perfect pace, doing what we've always wanted to do.
Have you always carried with you this perspective of gratitude?
Not always, but I had my older brother die when I was 18. He was 21. And then I think, I don't know. I believe trauma does a lot to you.
And if you can, try to take the positives out of traumatic experiences. The only thing you can be is reflective because you start feeling things and acting in ways, and it's like, okay, this is a reaction to something that's happened. Running helped me a lot, especially when it came to going further on my own. The reflectiveness definitely came later in life for me. Still, I think that is pretty natural; when you get older, you get more comfortable and stress about fewer things, so you have more capacity to think about your life rather than worrying about what's currently in front of you.
Mhm. Definitely, something many of us entering our thirties and forties can relate to. ...
When did the running enter the stage?
It was a present from when I was very young, growing up in the Yorkshire Dales. There's a thing called fell running, which is when you go straight up and straight down a mountain. Each summer, every little village had a summer fair and, with each fair, a race. Our parents would drive us to these fairs even from age six, and we'd enter the kids' running race.
After that, I got into mountain biking. I raced downhill on mountain bikes from the age of 13 to 23.
What did you find attractive about it, and why did you stop?
Adventure, camaraderie, and adrenaline. Sports, in general, have always been very good for me because I learned very quickly that if you're in competitive sports, there's always a bigger fish. There's always someone better. And again, coming from a small-town mentality, I think that was healthy for our group of friends; if you don't work for it, you're not gonna get it. If you come out of this really cocky, someone's gonna smash you, and you're not as good as you think you are. But in a positive way.
Those years were phenomenal. But then, you know, it gets to the point that cycling gets very expensive. As students, we had some sponsorship deals, but even so, it took every penny and waking moment for training outside of school. And when I moved into an apartment in Oslo, I had to wash my bike in the shower after every ride. With the hassle around all the equipment's constant maintenance, I was losing my enthusiasm for it.
It took more energy than it gave.
Exactly. Then, the running thing came back because I didn't have to deal with all the extra stuff; running is simple. As long as you have your shoes, you can go out your door and start to run.
The thing that really kicked it off was an episode in my old job. My agency started working with the company that owned GSport and Intersport, which also sponsored the Oslo marathon, and they said; if any of you want to race, we'll pay your entry fee. So, 6 of us from the office signed up for the Oslo marathon. That was the first time in my adult life I took running seriously and started training.
How old were you then? 27 How old are you now? 33, turning 34 in August.
This was in 2017, and I had no expectations or idea what I was doing. I wasn't taking any nutrition, doing nothing with watches, or even wearing regular sports socks. But, I ran a 2.46 in my debut Oslo marathon and came 22nd. I took myself down to the race line on my own in the morning, dropped off my bag, and finished on my own because everybody else was a bit further behind. I've never been so exhausted and so, like, content.
Because it was a six-month build-up, I had yet to learn how this worked; I didn't know what to expect when it was finished. It was my first taste of the level of content you can achieve through endurance sports, and I thought, okay, maybe I'm onto something here.
What does running look like for you today?
My running form is a bit passive throughout the winter; that's when I go cross-country skiing, and it starts to peak again around summer. Next year, I'm going to Uzbekistan in April for a 230-kilometer race.
There's, of course, a lot of training up to a race like that, and it's sometimes a hard pill to swallow because you know you can be better and always push harder, but I've decided that I'm not willing to sacrifice that other side of my life for it. I want to enjoy going out for dinners and parties, not have to train 8 times a week and follow specific meal plans. This is something I really work on balancing out; keeping running something I enjoy and not something dictating my life. It mustn't get so serious that I lose pleasure.
What is the running community like? Is it competitive? Is it friendly? Is it inclusive?
It's all, but it's more inclusive and friendly than competitive. The kind of people that enter such a demanding sport are at the sharp end of it, you know, everybody loves being competitive. But because the races are so difficult, finishing them is an achievement. And because of that, everyone just helps everyone.
Imagine this; you fly into a foreign country and spend 2 nights in a hotel with 100 people you never met. You get driven out into the desert, and suddenly, you're in a tent with 11 other people, and you'll sleep like that for a week. Connections form, and they become your friends.
Then came the end of day 4, which was very long. Some of the guys and girls were out there for 12 to 15 hours. And when they came back, they're just so smashed. And you start feeling responsible for other people. So, if you're the first to reach the next post, you sort yourself out, but as soon as you've recovered and have some food in you, as soon as one of your tentmates comes back, it's all about them.
What do you think about when you run?
Everything and nothing. A training session or a race often makes space for more creative thoughts. It's like when they say: oh, you get your best ideas in the shower; same for me, but with running.
When racing, you should get your design office job to pay you by the hour.
A hundred percent. Running out in nature is like a repetitive physical activity where all other distractions are removed, and that lets your mind wander. Whatever wants to come out and take the main stage is going to. Sometimes it's nothing, you're very present. Other times, you suddenly think about your childhood, relationships, and things at work. I'm covering a lot of topics when I'm out running. And the nicest thing about the longer runs is that the more exhausted you get, the more honest you become with your internal dialogue.
Right.
You don't have the energy to lie to yourself or put up walls. You have so many chemicals swimming in your body and feelings, and you don't have the energy to suppress them. So whichever one wants to pop its head out pops his head out, and you just have to surrender.
How long do you need to train, and what kind of training does one need to enter one of the big races? I mean, how long would it take if I were to start now? I run one or two times a week and do strength three days a week.
Generally speaking, I think you'd be able to do them now.
It's different if you're racing to reach a specific time or place, but if you want to complete one, it's more about personal admin than fitness. You must be able to keep your body functioning properly for multiple days: drink enough, eat enough, sleep enough, and keep your feet in good shape. If you can take care of yourself in an extreme environment, you can do it. And, of course, it helps to be in good shape fitness-wise.
What are your best tips for running novices eager to start?
First of all, get out the door. That's an actual issue for many, the, what's it called in Norwegian?
Dørstokkmila?
Yes, even for me, it still exists. It won't necessarily go away; you just need to get used to stepping on. If you can put your shoes on, get out the door, and start running, you've won. Start small and build up.
And the other thing is, yeah, join a running club.
If you're new, it can be scary, and it takes an ounce of courage to fight through it and show up. But you'll make friends; I promise it won't be your last time.
Communities nowadays are phenomenal for getting people involved in improving. But then again, getting lost in the fuzz is also easy. Remember, you don't need to compare yourself to other runners. You don't even need a goal. You don't have to race, run far, or buy the newest gear.
Just go outside. If you're happy being outside, that's enough. You don't have to run ultra-marathons or be the fastest or the best.
Just get outside if it makes you happy.
