Dispatches from the middle

There are a couple of things I would like to remember to do more of while running. Similarly, these are things I would recommend to other runners. Just substitute a “you” for the “I” and the message is the same!

Firstly: If I am alone, appreciate the solitude. Relax into it. Eleven years ago, solitude was not a problem for me. It wasn’t even a factor. I spent the summer after my first year of university working on a project in Japan, and I was alone for most of the time. Not knowing anyone in Japan and living in a dormitory on the campus of a research institute (now, you might think dorm living can be very social, but when you’re a 19-year-old woman (?) away from home for the first time, and the vast majority of your dorm-mates are older male postdocs who don’t speak much English and follow all conceivable schedules to tend to their experiments, there are few obviously kindred spirits floating around) kept me from taking advantage of regular social opportunities. But I had a blast anyway! I would walk and run around for hours, sit on the sidewalk and watch the little trains of ants go back and forth, take the bus to Tokyo on the weekends to play ultimate Frisbee and spend entire days wandering around by myself, decoding the subway system and trying whatever new foods I could get my hands on. I read like a fiend and filled notebooks with terrible poems. I was by myself and that was just fine.

Solitude is becoming more and more difficult, however. And I don’t think it’s simply that I’m becoming more social. I’m far more independent now than I was then, so it’s not that I need anything from anyone. I’m afraid – and actually afraid, because I suspect this is profoundly unhealthy – that my dwindling capacity for solitude is a result of the accelerating multiplicity of social outlets we’re confronted with on a daily basis and expected to be a part of. I mean, really, If I’m not in constant contact with people, keeping abreast of the developments in their lives and regularly providing updates on mine then, well, I’ll fall behind. And above and beyond being stuck in that most dangerous and pitiable of situations – being out of the loop – I will no longer be aware of the most up-to-date standard to which I should be comparing myself and striving not simply to live up to, but to surpass. Our lives have become so intertwined through social media and umpteen zillion communicative and comparative possibilities, that it is nearly impossible to do anything on one’s own without being conscious of how it will later be shared and subsequently perceived and evaluated by others. I don’t like it.

Running provides a delicious escape from this pressurized network. I’m by myself, doing what I want to be doing, exactly how and where I want to be doing it. I am my own best company; I like myself when I run. At the moment, I’m reading Dark Star Safari by Paul Theroux. So far – about 5 pages in – I’ve learned the following: “The word ‘safari,’ in Swahili, means ‘journey’; it has nothing to do with animals. Someone ‘on safari’ is just away and unobtainable and out of touch” (3). When I run, I’m on safari. This is something to savour and to learn from – there needs to be a bit more conscious safari in my life.

Disclaimer: Of course, this doesn’t mean that I don’t love running with other people. I absolutely do. It’s a beautiful social and bonding activity as well. And I am well aware of the irony of posting this particular rant on a blog, but hey, I’m all about embracing contradictions!

Secondly: Focus on little things like breathing, footsteps, stride, the angle of my body. Play around with these, notice the effects of small changes. For example, tucking my hips and butt under me results in acceleration. I was thrilled to discover this the other day. The trick, of course, is holding it there and learning to incorporate that into my natural stride. Whether that’s even a good idea, I’m not sure – I would very much like to find a coach and have my running style/stride assessed when I get back home. At the end of the day, running is such a “stick with whatever works for you” kind of sport that I’m not sure it would make much difference. It would definitely be interesting though. In any case, by experimenting, I’m becoming more conscious of what each part of my body – of my running machine, so to speak – is doing at any given time and how the parts fit together. It feels good.

Thirdly: Let my thoughts go. Examine each one as it arises, accept it for what it is, and let it go. On to the next one. Fighting to either hold on to or avoid thoughts while running is an energy sink, but it’s something I do all too often and have, on numerous occasions, wrecked runs because of. While running is a fantastic opportunity to think things through, and I find my runs hugely valuable as meditative time, I don’t think a run is the best time for grappling with problems. Exploring, perhaps. Feeling out, but not wrestling.

Fourthly: Notice what’s around me – along the same lines as noticing what different parts of my body are doing. Notice the ground under my feet. Feel the terrain, the cement, the gravel, the dirt, the grass. Pay attention to the air, the sky, the environment. I think barefoot running will do a great deal in the awareness department.