What I Think About When I Run
| published November 15, 2015 |
By Sarah Herrin,
Thursday Review contributor and blogger
A friend sent me a link to an article in the November 3, 2015 The New Yorker called "What We Think About When We Run," and it really inspired me. Since the infamous New York Marathon recently took place, people have remembered and become curious again about runners. In the article, it says runners commonly think about how hard it is to run and about the various pain they're feeling. They also think about deeper things like their partner, their work, and perhaps even the loss of a loved one. On my run today, I made it a point to remember what I thought about and then see how well I could transcribe it later, just for fun (and because I haven't written anything here for a while).
Now that my goal races are over for the year, I've been running a lot less. That isn't to say I'm enjoying running any less, it's quite the opposite, but with the combination of less daylight (I live in Seattle), colder temperatures, and seemingly perpetually grey Pacific Northwest skies, I have definitely been less motivated to get out there. Thankfully, it was sunny today, even if it was only 45 degrees. So, what do I think about when I run?
I think about how cold I am and the fact that I can't really feel my feet! My body moves like a machine and then I start thinking about The Terminator and how much I like him. I also thought about that one time at a Comic Convention where I got to pose with a Terminator.
I think about the gorgeous autumn colors exploding among the green lawns and the beautiful blue sky.
I see people working—people with leaf-blowers, people pressure-washing sidewalks, construction workers at their jobs—and I feel grateful for the flexible schedule that allows me to run at 10 a.m.
I remember taking this similar route on the weekend before Halloween when all the kids were trick-or-treating at the downtown shops. Because it was so crowded along my usual route, I had to take a side street that I'd never taken before, and I found that I was pleasantly surprised. As a general rule, I never had the desire to own a home and live in a "neighborhood," but these houses—coupled perhaps with where I am in life—have started to open my mind to the idea. I kind of think it would be nice to have a "home base" and still be able to travel when I get bored of being in one place. At least I wouldn't have to move every six months or nine months!
At some point on the run, because of some song lyrics, I remembered "the summer I lost all my friends." Surprisingly, I didn't feel as injured as I did three years or even two years ago. It was a strange thing that had happened. In seemingly unconnected events, in different relationships, and in varying circumstances, I’d lost the friendship of three people who were really important to me: one of my best friends from college, the husband of another best friend, and the sister of my ex-husband. (That really sounds messier than it is! None of these people hung out together).
It was just after my graduation from art school, and I had moved across the country—from the East Coast to the West Coast—to start a new life. I still don't fully understand why these people chose to "unfriend" me in real life and I never meant to hurt them. It seemed there wasn't any specific event that caused any of them to feel like I betrayed them. I blamed myself for a long time for whatever it was that I had done to make them hate me. But today, on this run, I felt at peace with it. I felt that I had forgiven myself and moved on. Of course, I still feel an ache for these sudden and confusing losses, but I also understand that most people don't stay friends forever. Some people are only in your life as long as it suits you and them, and then—for various reasons—they move on, and you move on. Meanwhile, life goes on. I'm not as close to some people as I used to be, but I feel nothing but love for them and hope that they have found a friend to take my place.
All of that passed through my thoughts that day on my run.
So, as you can see, running is not all about pain. It's certainly not all about suffering. It's about looking inward, analyzing your deepest thoughts and searching your soul. Aside from the physical benefits of running, there is a myriad of emotional and intellectual benefits. Running has made me stronger in more ways than one.
Related Thursday Review articles:
Run Chicken Run: My Therapy; Sarah Herrin; Thursday Review; November 2, 2014.
Run Chicken Run: My Running Buddies; Sarah Herrin; Thursday Review; October 25, 2015.