So, Why Run?

This is an unabashedly obvious sequel to my previous post on running, in which I made it sound like running is directly responsible for making a hateful, competitive person. That's not really what I meant, but I feel like maybe it's worth explaining briefly why I bother doing something that is obviously so fucking torturous.

Well, all of this first popped into my head while I was on my run earlier, because as I finished my first 3.2 mile lap and started up the hill at the beginning of my second, I was quite literally thinking "Why in the fuck am I doing this to myself?" In part, I think that question answers itself: I like running precisely because it creates a thinking space for me, a place and time within which I cannot do anything else but face my own thoughts, confront my own fears, grudgingly celebrate my own victories, etc., etc. It's like being on a road trip by myself, but even better because I come out in the end in much better shape instead of much worse shape. And this is good in turn because I've found over the last few years that being in shape just makes me a happier person.

This is hard to talk about. It's hard to talk about putting a lot of effort and interest into exercising and eating right without:
a) People assuming that you inherently judge them for not doing the same.

b) People assuming that your motivation for exercising is to Do Impressive Things and/or your motivation for eating right is to Not Be A Fat (Bad) Person.

c) People getting angry because they are also put a lot of effort into exercising and eating right, but they do it differently and, apparently, better.

Physical fitness and/or healthy eating (or lack thereof) suddenly seem to be foundational to a lot of people's conceptions of themselves. So they're hard things to talk about without bumping up against someone else's sense of self, and thus indirectly insulting them. I don't really identify as a Runner or a Healthy Eater, so this is a little incomprehensible to me. But I do try to stay in good, healthy shape because I don't really think there's much of a distinction between body and mind (and soul, if you're into that). If one's happier, the other will be happier. I wouldn't sleep four hours a night for an entire week and expect to be completely emotionally and mentally stable at the end. Why would I eat Cheetos for dinner and watch TV four hours a day and expect to be emotionally and mentally stable at the end?

I started running originally because Lindsey, who had been a triathlete before I met her, was trying to lose weight and wanted to get back into running. I was actually really lukewarm about it at first, as I thought it was much more fun to sit on my ass all day and not expend yet more energy on exercise in addition to all the energy I expended on work, socializing, etc. Then I started mountain climbing with my friend John and I realized that that was something I wanted to be able to not only do, but do with relative ease so I could focus more on how fucking beautiful everything around me was while I was climbing instead of on how badly my back, lungs, legs, and shoulders hurt. It was hard to regularly access good climbing territory in the flatlands of the Palouse, so I started running instead, figuring that at the very least I'd get a cardiovascular boost from it. Later that year, Lindsey decided she wanted to run a half marathon, and I agreed to try to run it with her. The rest is (unimportant, personal) history.

Suffice to say, the harder I worked at running, the better I got at it, and the better I felt as a result. I've rarely felt better in life than I did last summer essentially cruising through a half marathon, paying attention to the passing sights, having conversations with other runners, and just enjoying the fact that I had trained myself up to such a point of physical ability that I could more or less toss off a 13 mile run on a weekend.

Certainly, this is fun in part because it makes me feel like a badass, and who doesn't like feeling like a badass. But it's always been less about Getting Awesome and more about Getting To Have Awesome Experiences. No matter what speed I train up to, there are always going to be hundreds of thousands, if not millions of runners who are better than me. I personally know at least five people, off the top of my head, who will be better runners than me for the rest of our respective lives, by an unbelievably long shot. When I think about how good they are at running, it's like comparing a dog and a shark in an ocean-swimming competition.*

Competition doesn't interest me. I get down on myself sometimes when it comes to running because it's so quantitative, and there's a tendency to compare Current Me to Old, Better Me from time to time, but the totality of life as something that I go through with a much healthier, responsive, resilient, and more comfortable body as a result of running is absolutely qualitative. I can't look at an experience like climbing the Oregon Matterhorn solo or hiking 30 miles in two days through Hell's Canyon or even just walking up my office at sunrise for work and think "Well, that was worth 10 five-mile jogs!" It just doesn't work that way. Ultimately, when I'm out there running, I'm not thinking about how fast I'm going to finish, or how exciting it's going to be to tell everyone on Facebook how fast I ran. Because, for me at least, that's not what it's about. Instead, I'm thinking about how everything is going to be a little more enjoyable and easier later (even more running!) because I'm doing something difficult now. And, as long as that Something Difficult isn't a run further than, say, 15 or so miles, I'm absolutely okay with that.

* Not my best metaphor.