Why I Run

I’m storing this here for posterity, I’m still a new runner so my reasons for beginning are still pretty fresh in my mind. Here is “Why I Run” as told to the best of my shoddy, shoddy writing ability:

A couple of months ago now I was in a bookshop and, basically on a complete whim, picked up a copy of “What I Talk About When I Talk About Running” by Haruki Murakami, this book is half autobiography, half book about running. Murakami describes why he runs, what he gets out of it, how it feels to succeed and fail and he does it without sounding preachy (“Hey you! Fatass! You should run every day or you’ll die of a heart attack”).

I never really had any interest in running. As a child I used to like cross country running at school, but I think that’s mainly because it was something other than being picked last at football. After all, why should somebody enjoy running for the sake of running? It hurts and gets you sweaty. Regardless, I flicked through a few pages and found the writing style engaging, so again, completely on a whim bought the book. After letting it sit on my table for a couple of weeks I finally started reading. The whole book was immediately interesting, but the idea of getting out of breath for enjoyment initially seemed pretty alien. However, by the end of the book, after we have followed the author all the way through the ups and downs of his training for the Boston marathon (his 24th marathon) I felt like I was beginning to understand why somebody might decide to push their body along a lonely, sweaty road. One paragraph in particular really stood out to me, so I’m going to quote it here. On the subject of what Murakami thinks about during runs:

But really as I run, I don’t think much of anything worth mentioning.

I just run. I run in a void. Or maybe I should put it the other way: I run in order to acquire a void

In another area of my life this is precisely the reason I enjoy drawing pictures, when I get into the ‘drawing’ mindset, my conscious brain takes to the background and for some time (often a surprisingly long time) I’m completely focused on drawing, or to put it another way, I feel like I’ve acquired a void. This short excerpt about non-thinking really stuck with me, and about a week later, after it had shoved its way back into my head about a dozen times I found myself looking at beginners advice on running websites, reading stories from newbie runners, learning about overpronation, wondering if fancy socks and pedometers were necessary and then, one Saturday I found myself in a running shop trying on shoes. Shortly after that, and before I expected it, I was suddenly staggering, puffing and wheezing my way down the pavement. I don’t recall ever saying to myself “I’m going to start running”, it just sort of, well, happened.

I can’t say yet that I’ve hit the point where my body can carry me around comfortably. Every run digs up a few different aches and pains that I’m not expecting. I do, however, feel myself getting fitter, faster and stronger, which for now keeps me going. What will I manage next? I’m still hoping that down one road I do stumble over the sense of zen-like calm that accidentally started me running.