Its funny that the act of going for a run makes you want to write about it later. Actually, since I haven’t written on ANYTHING since I think February, running somehow makes one want to spew their thoughts on a page to memorialize them (a post on Not Writing is definitely coming after this).
Why is it funny that running makes you WANT to write about it? Because it SUCKS. Why would any sane person want to go back and relive their run, when all they wanted to do while on the run is stop and be finished? A quick glance online shows that I am not alone here. Runners of every nationality, age, gender, and distance all putting their thoughts onto paper (or electrons) for the world to see. It might be tempting to dismiss this as runners casually being like: ” Yeah, I run, I’m pretty fit and stuff and I have my life all together, isn’t that awesome FOR ME?!?!1!”
Yes, it is awesome for you, but that’s not why I think we like to talk and write about running and the voluntary torment we put ourselves though. I think its something more. At this point I could get into the Science Behind Running or something analytical about the process; about how it makes your neurons fire and you become like Bradley Cooper in Limitless when he takes that pill that allows him to use 100% of his brain all at once (I’m pretty sure that business about only using 10% of your brain is baloney).
No, I’m not going to write about the Bradley Cooper experience, scientifically at least. That’s cognitively interesting (I think) but its not what we want to read or write about deep down. What’s interesting to me is how the world seems to physically alter during a run.
Community
The running experience is not a solo endeavor. I don’t think I’ve ever ran a run (that’s fun to say!) without seeing a fellow runner on the path or street or beach. As you run up to them, or awkwardly overtake them from behind, you first size them up. 9 times out of 10, at least around here, its some older lady in her 40s or 50s that DEFINITELY just finished training for Boston or Chicago or something and they run ridiculous distances for fun after waking up at 6 am on a Sunday. I’m never going to be like them, and that’s OK.
Anyway, I digress, what happens next when you see another runner is you notice their SPEED. “Are they going faster than me?” Should I try and keep pace with them?” “Would it seem like I’m trying to chase them down in some slowed-down murder show that Netflix would sponsor and turn into a series called The Slow Stalker? Oh crap, it probably would, I should slow down as to not make it weird”.
Fundamentally, its about saving face for me at least. Pride is definitely not absent in a run, in fact it is the SOURCE of the run. Running is hubris, running is foolishness. So you pick up the pace when they see you, as if to show them that you are worthy of this foolishness, this hubris, and that you rightfully earned the vaunted title of Runner (TM).
What breaks you out of this bizarre pissing-contest is the most beautiful of things. You look at each other (no sooner than 3 or 4 paces apart, anything more is weird, anything less is shifty and makes you look like youre trying too hard) and you do the Thing. The Thing can be many things, but it usually takes the form of a weird hand-splayed-out-to-the-side wave or a head nod. I’m a big believer in the head nod, I like to think it makes me look like I’m super focused, like I’m actually in the middle of a montage when I’m training to beat the Russians in the next boxing match a la Rocky III. A head nod Up is for people that seem like they need a friendly sign of encouragement, a head nod Down is for everyone else to know that They’ve Got a Badass Over Here (cue NDT meme from 2011).
That micro interaction is awesome. Theres no better way to put it than just a pure show of friendlieness and community. You are all out there TOGETHER doing this thing together that none of you really HAD to do, but you wanted to in your morning hubris. Now you are together reaping what you sow, in some circle of Hell that involves the running app speaking through your headphones that you’ve crossed some arbitrary point in this strange dimension of pain where time does not flow as normal. But youre doing it together! In this day and age, is it weird to say thats probably the most pure, supportive sign I see from complete strangers on the street? I guess when I walk my puppy people are friendly, but then again, thats not really directed at me haha.
DISTANCE
Oh boy. “How tough do we think we feel today, huh? Biiiiiig man wants to run some Big Distance, is that it?? You think youre TOUGH enough to handle this brah??” -My Shoes, first step outside.
No where is the running hubris more evident than the distance selection portion of the pre-run antics. You might pull up your running app, or mentally stare at a wall and think “yeah, that’s about X Miles, I did it like 3 months ago, what’s the big deal?” And you sign yourself up for X Miles like a fool. I’ve found that most runs seem to go like this:
Mile 0-1, Denial: Trot, trot, trot…weeee! This isn’t so bad! Oh HI Mr. Shoes, isn’t it a LOVELY day out? Thanks for being so bouncy and helping we wizz through this run! Oh boy, this will be a snap! (I like how I revert to a 1960’s teenager with my sayings when I’m enjoying the run) I wonder if I should go MORE? Am I selling myself short? Am I actually in fantastic shape and no one told me? I should speed up and really keep myself on pace to hit a PR!
Mile 1-2, Pain and Guilt: Haha, oh man, well this is cool. Should I go down that street or will this one carry me far enough that I can hit my distance goal without having to run past my house again in shame? Hm my knee is making itself heard a little bit, and I’m starting to get kinda sweaty…UGH why did I spend all week eating like crap? I should be feeling SO much lighter right now!
Mile 2-3: Bargaining: Okay, if I keep on this pace, I’ll be too tired at the end, let me throttle back a bit, then I can just carry on right to the end! This kinda sucks. I don’t want to do this anymore. Hey, did you hear me? I want to get off! Can we at least walk for a bit? C’mon, no one is coming, no one’s gonna know that youre a Quitter. Ugh, why won’t you listen to me???
Mile 3-4, Depression: F@#$, this feels like @#$. You’re a fool, Adam. What makes you think you can do this distance? Remember when you spent all day yesterday watching Netflix and cruising Reddit? You also sit all day at work, you really think you can just get up and run all that way? Pff what arrogance is Man!
Mile 4-rest of the way, Upward Turn: This is the part where you get a second wind and you feel awesome! Let my feet carry me to VICTORY! I LOVE running, I’m a RUNNER! Resignation & Hope: No, this has never happened to me, and I’m not sure it ever will. And thats okay. I am not one of the chosen few for whom this will be an easy thing, just like my Mom has been telling me for 27 years. Us folk are not runners, and thats okay. Oh crap, we’re almost done?? Fo’real??? Hell yeah, lets hit the Gas. Is that my street?? Oh yusssss, I can just finish and then have lunch and a cold shower and then I’ll have the best weekend EVER! Is that my driveway down there? It IS!! AHHHHHHHHHH (fin).
Post Run
Right after a run, everything seems possible. Once you shower (or rather during if you’re like me) you think of all the things you’ve been meaning to do, all the people that you need to text or call to catch up with, different ways you can be a Better Human (TM). And maybe you do one of those things, maybe you write a blog post you’ve been neglecting for months and months and months, maybe you call up that friend and learn whats going on in their lives? Maybe what that run has given you is more than just blisters, sore joints, and sweat pouring into your eyes, making them sting. What the run gives you is honestly hope. Its a vehicle for transforming hubris into actions that make you a sliiiiiightly better person. Like a Benedictine Friar self-flagellating away in an abbey, running (afterwards at least) is a strangely spiritual experience, a blast furnace that takes sweat and self-defeating talk and emotion and transforms it into Clarity.
Final thoughts: I actually wrote this before I checked out The Oatmeal’s awesome comic on running. I read that comic way back in like 2013-14 but after seeing his overall takeaway from the Running Experience (I actually used the clarity word before I saw this last panel!), it made me realize that my experience is not original, and that’s OK. Running isn’t an original experience, we all run from the moment we can walk pretty much. All of us raced around the playground at Recess, all of us ran to our parents or friends or ice cream truck as children, the only difference is that some people stop running at some point. We’re born to run as people, its part of the human experience! I won’t get into the research on how our ancient ancestors used to run as our primary hunting mechanism, but I like to think that running is a part of our inheritance or, more accurately, the post-run clarity we experience after doing something hard is something like hope, the only real, amazing human quality that has endured in eons of human experience across all sorts of trials and tribulations (can you ever have a trial without a tribulation??)
That’s why running is cool, and that’s why I’ll keep running even though I suck, it sucks, and no one in their right mind should do it…it makes me feel like I’m progressing to better things. And if I have to get blisters and aches and sweaty to feel that way, so be it.
Adam's Fathoms 