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August 29, 2006
The Veritable Joy of Being Alone
When I embarked upon this summer's running endeavor, one of my fears was spending a lot of time alone. There are many runners out there who run in an almost exclusively social context, running many days with partners, meeting a running group for a weekend long run, and so forth. I haven't been fortunate to live close to many other runners for years now. While my current home yields me closer access to runners and a running scene than my last home located somewhere near the end of the earth in west Texas, I still am mostly a running loner out here in the wilderness. In general, I find this satisfying, perhaps because I'm simply used to running alone. However, in light of my dad dying so recently, I feared what might happen if I spent too much time out there alone, letting my mind mull over the not-so-pleasant elements of life for too many minutes every day.
In the end, I've had a fair bit of running company this summer. My company has been entertaining, helpful, and inspiring. I've run with a few people who could school me up and down the mountains, twice and three times over. I've run with people who are just beginning their running careers. And, I've run with folks who are just about like me. I'm confident that all of them have contributed to my summer's running endeavor in a positive way.
I've also learned this summer that there is a certain veritable joy in running out there, all alone. I think that I have known this before, but this summer has reminded me of it even more:
1) I can feel free to think (or not think) without worrying about talking or fulfilling my end of a conversation.
2) I can run the specific pace and the specific distance that I wish to run. I don't have to stop for someone else to duck in the bushes or to stretch their hamstrings.
3) I can run where I want to run, and change my plans at the spur of the moment should I decide to do something different.
4) I can listen to music as I run, and not feel bad about being antisocial with those around me.
5) I can wear the same running clothes days in a row, and no one else will know. I can even wear a pink sports bra and red shorts and there's no one there to laugh at the color combination resulting from my inability to do my laundry at a regular rate.
As I write, I realize that my writing has a certain finality and conclusiveness to it. That's kind of funny, because I'm no where near finishing this current running endeavor. There is much more running to be done after this weekend, after I regain feeling in my quad and hamstring muscles, after completing (exceling in?) my first trail marathon. Besides, there is much more running to be done beyond the near future, hopefully a lifetime of more running.
Yeah, I really need to run more and think less. When does this tapering end?
Posted by Meghan at August 29, 2006 6:55 PM
Comments
We humans are cyclical creatures. It's hard to resist the urge to wrap things up, summarize, analyze and debrief and then...move on to the next cycle. Seasons, school years, ovulating, the waxing and waning of the moon: we're just hardwired this way, I think.
Posted by: chelle at September 1, 2006 9:58 AM
Hey - really cool post. I think when any runner tapers, they seem to have more time to think and reflect. You mentioned the finality of your writing - it seems maybe like you've ended a chapter of training and have had time to look at what you've gained from it. Now with your taper, you're starting another segment. It makes me realize how valuable time to stop and think is.
Posted by: Ginger Breadman at September 1, 2006 9:19 PM