The Right Thing

Zach Miller’s thoughts on honesty and integrity in running and life.

By on December 15, 2023 | Comments

A few weeks after racing UTMB this year, I jumped in my favorite hometown race, the 10-mile Conestoga Trail Run. Located in the rugged river hills of Lancaster, Pennsylvania, it’s a classic grassroots trail race. It’s point-to-point, so you show up at the start to grab your bib, then jump on a big yellow school bus to get shuttled to the start line. Like grade school, it’s nice to find a friend and share a seat. This year I spotted my friend Dave Lantz and enjoyed chatting with him as the bus rambled its way up and down the steep, winding back roads between the finish and the start.

Once at the starting area, I did a short warmup before jumping on the starting line. When the race started, I jumped out to an early lead. Shortly after making it through what I find to be the most challenging part of the course to navigate, I passed a few folks cheering along the course. As I flew by, it sounded like one of them said, “Reel ‘em in!” Continuing on, I thought, That’s a funny thing to say to someone who is leading the race.

A short while later, I saw two runners in front of me. Suddenly, the statement made a lot more sense. Having run this race for many years, I figured these runners must have gone off course, taken a shorter/faster line, and leapfrogged in front of me. One of the two runners was my buddy Cooper Linde. As I passed Cooper, I said something to him about going off course, and he said that they had. Having regained the lead, I continued on to the finish to secure the win.

Brittany Charboneau, Jenn Lichter, and Zach Miller - training

The North Face teammates Brittany Charboneau, Jenn Lichter (behind Brittany), and Zach Miller work together to complete an interval workout. Photo: Rob Krar

As I waited at the finish, Cooper popped out of the woods and crossed the finish line in second place. But arguably more impressive than Cooper’s running that day was what he did next. As soon as he finished, Cooper walked up to the race director, admitted his error, and told him he could put an asterisk or something by his name in the results.

Now, Cooper is an upstanding guy, so his behavior did not surprise me in the least. Still, it made me smile inside. He could have crossed the line and kept his mouth shut about his error, hoping to get away with it. Instead, he did what a lot of people fail to do. He admitted his wrongdoing.

Thinking about this reminds me of a similar experience I had a few winters back. It was February of 2022, and I was racing Pennsylvania’s infamous winter trail race, The Frozen Snot. Purposefully held in what is typically the coldest time of year in Pennsylvania, “The Frozen Snot” is a wild and rugged race that boasts 5,800 feet of elevation gain over a mere 13.5 miles. On a good day, the race is cold, snowy, and covered in ice — or as my buddy Matt Lipsey says — it’s a winterized sky race.

Anyhow, on that wintry day in 2022, Matt and I were racing each other for the lead when I missed a turn and led both of us off course. Having ran the race before, Matt alerted me to my mistake. Having broken away from the field, no one was around to see what we had done. Given that we were traversing where we should have been climbing, we could have made a beeline to reconnect with the course. This, however, would mean that we would skip a portion of the course.

This did not seem fair to me, so we turned around, backtracked to where we had wondered off course, and continued on from there. Matt ended up beating me that day. I finished second. Looking back, I’m glad we handled our mistake the way we did. Sure, we probably could have beelined our way back on course and gotten away with it, but that just didn’t seem right.

From Cooper’s mistake in the Conestoga Trail Run, to Matt and I’s in The Frozen Snot, I’m reminded that there are a lot of ways to go wrong in a trail race. And unlike on the track or sometimes on the roads, there often aren’t any eyeballs around to witness such mistakes. Hence, a lot of them could likely be gotten away with. But, just because they can be, doesn’t mean they should be.

Zach Miller (center) with his crew (l-to-r), Cordis Hall, Abby Hall, Jared Hazen, and Jeff Browning, who banded together to help him with his recent Grand Canyon Rim-to-Rim-to-Rim fastest known time attempt. Photo courtesy of Zach Miller.

Life is very much the same. There are many ways in which we can go wrong, and a lot of the times there won’t be anyone there to witness it. But as in a race, just because it isn’t seen, doesn’t mean that it’s okay.

I believe that the moral bar we set for ourselves matters. So, the question is, where’s the mark? Some might think that the bar is set at not doing wrong. I, however, think that such a bar is too low. Our goal in life should not be simply to do no wrong, but rather to do what is good.

I’ve been thinking about this concept a bit more lately. As I observe things going on in the world, especially things occurring within the quirky world of trail running, I find myself questioning if what is happening is wrong. Recently, it often feels difficult to determine whether or not something is absolutely wrong. So, instead, I ask myself things like this: Is it good? Is it helpful? Is it kind?

These are basic questions, but I think they make for a good compass. Whether we catch ourselves missing a turn or find ourselves at the hand of someone else’s wrongdoing, it’s important to stop and consider these questions. Because in the end, we aren’t here to just avoid doing wrong, but to do something good.

Call for Comments

  • Have you ever found yourself in a situation like Zach describes, of some accidentally wrongdoing?
  • What did you do?
Zach Miller
Zach Miller lives in a school bus he outfitted himself. He competes for The North Face and Team Colorado. Additional sponsors/supporters include Clean-N-Jerky, GU Energy Labs, and Nathan Sports. Follow him on Instagram.