Torrential rain has been lashing the middle of the North Island for the last couple of days but there appears to be a reprieve as I make the early morning 20-minute walk to the starting line. The clouds are angry but they appear to be holding back from unleashing the onslaught we’ve recently experienced. The air is so thick with humidity I’m already sweating. It’s not quite 7am and steam is rising from the geothermal hot pools surrounding Te Puia in Rotorua. The central park is packed to the brim with people in bright colours; some stretching, others doing knee tucks to warm up for the day ahead, and yet others are queuing for the toilets for a nervous one before the race starts.
I’m standing at the start line of the Tarawera T50, a 52‑kilometre trail run that can take anywhere from 4 to 14 hours to complete and will take us through some of the most stunning geothermal landscapes and New Zealand bush you will ever experience. I’m feeling a little nervous as the countdown to the start gets underway and even contemplate quickly dashing to the toilets myself. I’ve completed many endurance events over the years and, all but one, managed to cross the finish line. My finisher photos are never pretty and I always look a little worse for wear but I’m always thoroughly pleased with myself. The one time I didn’t finish was during the 2021 Tauranga Half Ironman, where I cleverly managed to break my foot on the run.
However, this is my first ultramarathon event. It’s not the first time I’ve signed up for it, but it’s the first time I’ve made it to the start line. I’ve signed up for this very race twice before but had to pull out due to injury — once because of a hamstring tear and the other due to a sciatic nerve issue. Perhaps that’s what’s making me nervous; it’s been four years since I’ve competed in anything. Will I be able to go the distance?
You are in danger of living a life so comfortable and soft, that you will die without even realising your true potential. ~ David Goggins
I start to jump around a little, trying to pretend that I know what I’m doing, when my wife’s voice pops into my head. It’s a question she always asks when I’ve managed to drag myself across the finish line looking like death warmed up: Why do you keep doing this to yourself? For a long time, I couldn’t put it into words … until I discovered the meaning of eudaemony.
Eudaemony — or eudaimonia if you’re feeling fancy — is one of those ancient Greek ideas that somehow feels more relevant now than ever. The Greeks weren’t talking about quick hits of joy or the kind of happiness you get from a good flat white. They meant something deeper: flourishing, living in a way that feels aligned with your values, your purpose, and your best self. Aristotle framed it as the highest human good, and modern psychology still echoes that sentiment, describing it as authentic self‑realisation and living in accordance with your true nature.
This is where the whole “happiness versus fulfilment” thing gets interesting. Happiness, as we tend to use the word today, is often about feelings — pleasure, comfort, ease. Nothing wrong with that, of course. But the Greeks would say that’s only the surface layer. Fulfilment, on the other hand, is the slow‑burn stuff: purpose, growth, contribution, virtue. It’s the teacher who feels deeply satisfied shaping young minds, even on the days when nothing goes to plan. It’s the craftsperson who keeps showing up, not because it’s always fun, but because mastery feels meaningful.
Aristotle was pretty blunt about it: happiness as a feeling comes and goes, but eudaemony is a way of living. It’s built through choices, habits, and character — what he called aretē, or virtue, guided by practical wisdom. The Stoics later doubled down on this, arguing that flourishing comes from aligning your actions with your inner nature and values.
So, if happiness is the weather, fulfilment is the climate. One shifts daily; the other is shaped over years. And eudaemony? That’s the art of building a life where fulfilment becomes your default setting — where you’re not just feeling good, but being good, in the richest, most grounded sense.
I imagine trying to explain this to my wife at the finish line, but can only picture the concern on her face as she assumes I’ve pushed myself far beyond my limits and am in need of urgent medical attention. Instead, I turn my focus back to the colourfully dressed runners, the smiles and the excitement as we wait for the starting gun, and feel a sense of belonging. We all know suffering lies ahead and, within that suffering, we will achieve fulfilment, happiness and – whether people can articulate it or not – eudaemony.
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Photo by Brian Metzler on Unsplash
