Isn’t running super boring? Don’t you just find it monotonously dull? What could you possibly think about for hours on end?
I’m confident that if you are a runner you will have been asked at least one of the above questions. If you are a non-runner, I am equally as confident that you have asked one of these questions to those of us have chosen long distance running as a hobby.
The truth is that the answer to the first two questions is a simple, yet resounding, ‘No’. I could ramble on about why that is the case, but I don’t feel the need. The answer to the third question - What could you possibly think about for hours on end? is something I want to untangle. I remain assured that us runners share many trains of thought, so please do jump aboard whilst I try to reveal parts of my very own internalized running commentary. There’s the weird and the wonderful, the highs and the lows, the dull and the dreary and then the damn right random.
“Welcome back to Radio E, next up is Kanye West - Gold Digger, because sometimes E likes to think she’s is from the hood, has the booty of Kim K. and can rap like Jay Z.”… ‘great choice from Radio E, you are so right, sometimes I do feel like the fifth member of destiny’s child’…
That’s just a small snapshot of the weird world of the completely internal, fictitious radio station I pretend is playing whilst out on a long run. Radio E tends to only come ‘on air’ on the longest of my adventures. It keeps me company and it gives me tones of shout outs.
“Big up the Bambi who just ran through 37km, next up is Tina Turner ‘The Best’ we know she loves this one, keep going Bambs”… ‘I do love this one, thanks Radio E, no you’re the best!’…
In fact I am the only person who gets shout outs on Radio E, which is completely unremarkable considering it is an imaginary Radio station inside my head. Enough of Radio E, it’s sufficient to make me sound mad.
Shorter runs are anything under an hour and these are the runs where I struggle to keep my head. My thoughts become one equally busy, bonkers and boring circular reference (that’s one for the excel geeks). On a shorter run there isn’t quite enough time to completely zone out, tune into Radio E and pretend I’m part of Dexys Midnight Runners in a pair of dungarees hollering for Eileen to come on. In fact at the start of many of my runs I am the running equivalent of scrooge. I’m always excited, yes, but I am human and therefore often riddled with doubt.
The start of a run is often the low point of my cyclic thoughts. I’m thinking about; how tired I am, how my ankle is stiff, how I ate too much and now feel sick, how my neck just cracked from sleeping awkwardly, questioning why my knee suddenly hurts when it’s never hurt before and ultimately can I be bothered with this at all?
Then as quickly as the negative thoughts rear their ugly cynical heads they dissolve into the morning air. I calm myself, I breathe in all the goodness. This point of the cycle comes the highs. I breathe deeply and I think about; how precious this time is, how fortunate I am to be able to join the outside world for an adventure before the sun has risen and therefore before the outdoors itself has truly woken up. I’m thinking about how thankful I am for all the brilliant kilometers I will… did I already put my underwear in my cycle rucksack? If not, I must remember to do that as soon as I get home.
Then the random, sometimes mundane and sometimes completely strange thoughts rudely interrupt that ‘moment’ I was having with my run. Thoughts flit between completely unconnected things; what happened to that man I saw crying in Starbucks last Thursday? If I was ever to buy one of the Thunderbird Machines, which one would I buy? Can I wear those black trousers for a third day in a row, probably not? O look a crunchy leaf, I need to step on that, ‘crunch’, god that was satisfying. And the thoughts just keep coming until the cycle starts again.
The lows; have I really only been running for 5 minutes, my god I’m tired and my feet hurt, my shorts feel too tight, and this jacket is cooking me like boil in the bag rice and why is it raining sideways, again. Then the highs; yes, it is raining, but I’m here, I’m doing this, I could do this forever, I am super woman and I have super running powers and life is wonderful. I’m going to enter a marathon when I get home and another… when was the last time I washed the bedding? Then the randomness comes back and the cycle continues. Lows to highs, weird to wonderful.
There is however one final type of thought that appears through a runner’s head every now and then. And that is blissful nothingness. It is the therapy of the wilderness. When we are completely at one with the path of the present, completely uninterested in what has been and completely indifferent as to what will be. There is no formula for these moments, they just happen. You look at your watch and you see that 2 hours has passed and you wonder if you were even awake at all.
So in answer to that third question, ‘What can you possible think about for hours on end?’ well my answer is, sometimes I imagine my own personal radio station then the rest of the time it’s a bit of everything, anything and absolutely nothing, and it’s completely wonderful.
Happy running. See you out on the trails.
E