Trip dla sprawy (Trip for a cause)
I ran a marathon in every one of 16 Polish provinces to help The Hackers — a charity supporting the technological development of digitally excluded children.
Idea
In 2019 I felt stuck in my work. I saw no purpose in what I was doing. Writing code just for some rich dude to become richer, turning the number on my bank account balance into a higher number wasn’t good enough. I wanted to do something valuable for the world, whatever that’d be. So I decided to donate some of my time to a charity cause.
I googled for organizations looking for volunteers in Cracow, where I lived back then. The Hackers (Hakersi) immediately interested me. They work to teach technical skills to kids from tough backgrounds: childcare homes, foster families, impoverished ones, or having parents simply not giving a fuck. And they’ve been looking for volunteers to lead workshops. I wrote an email, said I was interested in such a role, and a few weeks later I started working with my first group.
In 2006 Dean Karnazes famously completed 50 marathons in 50 states in 50 consecutive days. A few months before him, less-known runner, Sam Thompson did a similar thing to raise funds for victims of Hurricane Katrina. In 2015 James Lawrence (aka Iron Cowboy) stepped up the challenge by tossing in some swimming and cycling before each marathon resulting in 50 Iron Man in 50 states in 50 days.
When I learned about those accomplishments I got inspired. I realized I would’ve had trouble listing all Polish voivodeships, even though we only have 16 of them. I knew one day I’d do a mini-version of the US challenges; to see the country, spend time on the road, and have tons of fun running.
Suwalki Region in the north-east of Poland is one of the least touristically adapted regions of the country; having a poor hotel base and tons of forests it offers a nature experience with very few people around. It’s a pure beauty; a dreamland for kayaking with its extensive set of lakes and rivers.
It was during one of such kayaking adventures in the summer of 2023 when it struck me — this is the best time for my 16-provinces adventure! I was during my notice period at work; I had no exact idea about how to fill my days after employment ended. I only knew I didn’t want to write code for some time. Running matched this requirement in 100%.
Putting this all together was a no-brainer: doing 16 marathons in 16 provinces should have something more to it than just sightseeing. It ought to have some mission — someone to benefit from this useless endeavor. So the idea became 42 kilometers of running in sixteen places dedicated to The Hackers; to raise some funds, and have an opportunity to talk about the organization and those less fortunate in life. Win-Win-Win.
Preparation
This was the first time I ever approached such a project. I never traveled nor ran so much over such a short period. I had no idea how much things could go wrong. This gave me the confidence to do it. For a start, just like any big thing, this project needed a team. I started by asking my girlfriend if she’d like to get on board and help with the PR part of the adventure. Then I remembered a podcast I once listened to. It was about Szymon — a guy who’s done a charity run across Iceland a few years ago. I sent him a Facebook message:
— Hey mate, you don’t know me, but I’m Kuba and I’m doing this charity running gig. it’s a bit similar to what you’ve done in the past. Would you mind having a call and answering a couple of questions?
— Yes, sure. Let’s talk in the evening
I got a reply within minutes. We had an hour-long conversation, after which I realized what the hell I just got myself into. The game was on.
We set a fundraising goal of 9200 PLN (about 2100 EUR) — the equivalent of supporting five kids for a year. With the optimistic assumption that we’d get some tech companies to donate, this felt like quite an easy target to reach. Together with The Hackers, we prepared sponsorship packages. We didn’t want to ask for donations with nothing in return. I made sure to cover all the costs, so 100% of the raised money would go directly to the charity.
The biggest surprise came when we got into conversations with potential partners. We had a very good pitch, well practiced, and rehearsed, with nice slides and all that stuff. We delivered it passionately, with a big belief in what we’re doing. It struck me how different were conversations with tech and running/outdoor companies.
— Hello dear Sir or Madame. There’s a serious problem with the education of kids from tough backgrounds, and we believe we can solve it together with The Hackers. They’re doing amazing work, and they need volunteers, and they need money. We’re doing this “Trip dla sprawy” gig. Is there any chance to get you on board?
We asked in many tones, versions, and levels of detail to a lot of people.
— Our budget is closed for this year; there’s no branding benefit for us in it, and we need something in return. By the way, we already have a coding academy, so we’re doing our part of the good deeds.
That was the most common answer from tech companies. Companies that (in my opinion) should care about the issue. Companies that spend more money on their regular TGIF events than we asked for. On the other hand, there were replies from those from the sports world:
— Sorry, but we’re getting too much of charity offers on an ongoing basis; our budget is closed for this year. But we wish you all the best, and we’d like to support you with some snacks and a free T-shirt.
We expected a lot of rejection. The time was very short, we’ve got a poor social media presence, and 100 other things were not in place. Yet, it was the companies who (again, in my opinion) could say “Nah, we don’t care about coding kids. We want them to run outside, play soccer, and stay away from computers” that gave us some support. It wasn’t a lot but it was way more than we got from the tech world.
I must note here that we only experienced this difference at the organizational level. We received equally amazing help from coders, runners, and people of many more life paths.
People
I was in the middle of nowhere, somewhere in Opolskie Voivodeship. Around me fields, groves, and cow shit. I was running towards Opole, on the second day of the trip. I was busy convincing myself that my backpack was not heavy at all when I heard a cyclist approaching. I ignored it.
— Hey there, I couldn’t find you!
Said the cyclist. I paid no attention to it, convinced I wasn’t the recipient of the sentence.
— But here you are, it’s great to see you.
Now I got a bit worried. I didn’t expect anyone to join me, and it was way too early for any kind of running-induced hallucinations.
— How’s it going on?
It’d be rude to keep on ignoring the cyclist, even if it was just an imaginary one. I looked over my shoulder. Surprised, I saw a friendly face.
— I live close by so I figured out I’d join you. I’m recovering from my run last week, so I took a bike, and here I am. Need anything? Snacks, drink? Mind if I join you for the next few hours? Can I carry your backpack?
— How do I get to the train station from here? — I asked my friend.
— I’ll give you a ride.
— But, it’s like the other side of the town, you sure? I can take the metro.
— No worries, I’ll take a break from work.
In the middle of some cabbage field in Lubuskie, I got a message from a friend whom I was supposed to visit a day after:
— What time are you gonna be here tomorrow? I have some dude wanting to run with you, but he needs some details. Where, when, etc.
— Yo, well, it’s kinda tricky, I’m not sure…
— I gotta tell him something.
Planning tomorrow as early as 5 PM was a bit of an exuberance for me. It took me a while to realize people may have some work or, like, life.
— I have an idea! Can I already come today and stay for the night at yours?
— Yeah, sure.
— Fucking A, makes things easier. But I’m kinda in the middle of a cabbage field now, let me see if I can catch any train today. I’ll let ya know later.
I’m not an enthusiast of thorough planning of time. I find it an unnecessary burden and see no need for that. Appointments at “in the evening” or “later-later” are precise enough in most cases. For those exceptions when the exact hour is necessary I push making this decision as far as possible — setting an exact hour of a meeting that is gonna happen in a few days is a behavior I truly can’t understand. Yet, I know some people do such things, and sometimes I try to play that game. Usually, losing it.
Throughout the trip, I had the pleasure to spend a bit of time with friends from two sides of my life: running and tech. They all helped me as much as they could by sharing their place, giving lifts to train stations, guiding me around their neighborhoods, and doing other good deeds. For that I’m extremely grateful; I can clearly say that everyone I met is awesome.
It was fascinating to meet all of them in so many different contexts in such a short time. Not often one can spend six subsequent nights in six different cities with six different personalities. I couldn’t help but notice some correlation between a person’s life satisfaction with their enjoyment of sports and nature. I was shocked how much calmer, less stressed, and somehow more peaceful were those who dedicated their time to physical, outdoor activity.
It’s not to say that those sporty souls experienced no challenges in life; I’m far from calling anyone a Zen monk here. But there was some distance in how they spoke about their obstacles and referred to the unpleasantries in their lives. It was like there was some kind of a buffer between themselves and their life drama. There was another side to it: the more someone talked about their pursuit of physical belongings, the more anxiety there was in the conversation.
Running
It wasn’t an accident we used no “run” word in the challenge name, but “Trip”. Too many conversations about running get reduced to “What shoes, what time?”. Ever since the beginning we wanted to make it clear (to myself too) that this thing isn’t about breaking records or setting personal bests. This decision influenced the next ones, starting with setting courses. Knowing it’s about the adventure I didn’t bother with too much research or planning. I expected things to go off rails anyway, so why would I?
The first route was obvious, as it started and ended at my home. So I just used popular running routes in the area, drew the distance of 42 km, and called it done. Then I followed the train tracks on the map looking for interesting places. What would be an interesting place? I trusted intuition on that. I searched for marked hiking trails, green areas, names that interested me, and maybe places I heard about and wanted to visit sometime in my life. With this approach I had all the sixteen routes ready in a few days, designing them over my morning coffees. No overthinking.
A few times I had to ditch those courses. In Lubelskie Voivodeship the train broke and I didn’t catch my transfer. Instead of waiting for the next one I started running from where I was. Another time, I was running at night, and I got scared of a pack of dogs. Needless to go around them I simply said “fuck it”, turned back, and chose another route.
It didn’t always go so smoothly. In Podlaskie Voivodeship I found myself doing a 10-kilometer stretch through a high-speed road, late in the evening. It was pitch black with no road lights, there was terrible rain and I was wearing all black clothes. I was sure I would’ve gotten hit by some truck before I reached the first kilometer of this section. So I ended up running 7 km through a swampy field next to that road before I found some detour.
In Grudziądz I saw one of the longest bridges in Poland. It’s a 1098 meters-long monster over the Vistula River. I don’t feel comfortable on bridges over water (yup…), and this one I didn’t like at all. While crossing it I found myself on the edge of a panic attack. If I only knew that my route was going through it, I would’ve been tempted to plan it differently. But, thanks to no research I could’ve gone through that experience.
On the map of Szczecin, I saw a huuuuge green area in the middle of the city. Convinced it must be some park I imagined a lovely 5km loop there at the finish of my route. When I reached the place, it turned out to be a big-ass cemetery. I ran through it but left as quickly as I could. It was already a dark evening, and it was far from a “lovely place”.
I finished each marathon in a time of a little below 5 hours. Pro runners can say it’s not even running, some hobbyists dream about finishing a single race in such a time. I did my best to not care, and I loved it. I got tons of photos; I counted thousands of steps; I saw amazing places. I had a fantastic time. Some of it was in the pain cave, but most was a pleasant trip.
Trains
In Kielce, I arrived at the train station to a Pat & Mat kind of scene. Two train wagons, six guys. Smoking cigarettes and looking at the coupling between the carriages:
— the bloody thing doesn’t want to connect
— it’s not good, what now?
— we need a new train
— maybe we do the maneuver?
— a new train is the only option
— let’s talk it through
— maneuver is a good idea
— maneuver is a bad idea
and on, and on.
I boarded the train ready for the upcoming entertainment. A few minutes before departure, the train started rolling, in the wrong direction. Confusion appeared on passenger’s faces: “Is this train going to Lublin?”, “Is this my train?”, “Halina, we’re on the wrong train!”.
Voice over the intercom spoke a cryptic message about the train going through “maneuvers”; an excited conductor rushed through the carts explaining them to naive passengers in a language as absurdly technical as possible. Two things became obvious: those were the first maneuvers in his career, and the train would be delayed. Like, really delayed.
The mythical maneuver turned out to be an attempt to change the order of the carts; only for a less excited conductor to appear with news that this train was not going anywhere. All the passengers should now leave, and board another compartment; the departure will be an hour late. I was disappointed at the scale of the entertainment. I have no idea what I hoped for, but clearly something more.
Looking at the passengers’ faces I felt like an alien. Common reactions were frustration, dissatisfaction, anger. I couldn’t understand that; full joy on my face. Travel, commuting, the act of sitting one’s ass down in some kind of a moving metal box is the last bastion of true relaxation; the only freedom in the twenty-first century. It’s the last and single place where homo sapiens are allowed to do nothing. Allowed to have no internet connection, allowed to have no meetings, allowed to look dumbly outside the window, and just be.
“To commute”, and “to travel” are verbs. One can say “I’m traveling”, meaning they’re busy with it; occupied with the process of changing their location. Just like saying: “I’m working, don’t disturb me”, one can say: “I’m commuting, don’t disturb me with the bullshit of everyday life”. But so many of the travelers, are only passengers now. Discarding the experience, believing it’s a wasted time because it’s not a productive endeavor.
It won’t last forever. Marketers are already putting their screens in the trains. Little more time and the only Windows we’ll see will be the one produced by Microsoft. Instead of those beautiful landscapes, there’ll be the Samsung logo in our faces. Try doing nothing on your next commute. You may be quite amazed at how cool it is after the initial pain. Travel while you can — soon enough we’ll only surf the internet.
Coming home
For the first time in my life, I found myself waiting to give an interview. I was in the lobby of a well-known newspaper, and a few moments earlier I’d been feeling anxious about the thing to come. I’d arrived quite early I ordered some coffee to kill the time waiting. All my stress went away as soon as I received it — overheated and served in a paper cup. I can understand too hot water, but paper? I couldn’t treat the circumstance as serious anymore.
One of the questions I was asked was about the outcome of the action. Was it a success? What benefits have it brought? The same question my brain’s been asking since the end of the last marathon. Was it worth the effort?
Looking purely at the numbers, at this absolute indicator humans like to look at, I couldn’t say so. The financial goal of the fundraising was reached in about 50%. Sounds bad, doesn’t it? Yet, amazing things have happened: we started conversations with people who had no idea about The Hackers before, we got the interest of potential volunteers, and we got media coverage we wouldn’t get without it (like the interview). I’ve also had personal benefits: I’ve seen lots of places, I’ve had tons of running fun, and I’ve had a fantastic trip.
But, the biggest success, the single thing that made all the running, all the time on the trains, and all the efforts worth it, was the meeting we did with kids in Łódź. With about 12 teenagers we spoke about the chances they get in life by putting their efforts into education. It was a great time with them, super interesting to listen about the challenges they face daily in school. The news that all of them signed up for English or Programming classes with The Hackers was the definite answer that the Trip was a success. We wouldn’t get that without the running.
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