The Joy of Running

I hate running.

It’s SO boring. Entire industries have been created because running is actually boring. How many IPods have been sold to compete with the boredom of running? Before the IPod, millions of CD players were sold for the same reason, and people bought several of them, each time buying into a new promise that it would skip less than the last one as it jogged along. Nike + exists because running is boring. Talking shoes--they don’t just talk (which would make it even worse) but they “encourage” runners. They inform you how far you’ve gone and how far you have to go… stuff like that. How much would you pay someone to run with you and say the same things? But, THAT would be ridiculous, right?

People buy all kinds of different “running apparel” to cope with the fact that they would go insane if they didn’t do SOMETHING about their issues with running. The jogging suit has changed considerably over the years. There was a time when Hip Hop fans wore fancy expensive jogging suits as everyday apparel. They didn’t run at all. They are not THAT stupid. The suits were comfortable, stylish, distinguished… it was like the suits evolved faster than the running itself. Clothes designed to make the whole experience more bearable actually made buyers realize that the best way to do that was to forgo doing it in the first place. Genius.

Running and evolution have an interconnected DNA. People have been running as long as they have existed. There was a time when people ran for two reasons: to catch food or to avoid being food. Running has historically been absolutely necessary for both reasons. The corollary of that is that people have been finding was to avoid doing it just as long. People domesticated animals to avoid having to chase them. We also domesticated them so we could ride on them when it was necessary to chase other animals. I don’t think many people, historically, actually ran to get from one place to another. At least, not for long distances. We walked. Or, we rode our domesticated animals. Or, we found other ways to accomplish stuff that did not involve travel at all—like sending a domesticated pigeon. Or a postman. I prefer a text, myself. I’ve never seen a postman run his route.

So, why do people run marathons? It’s pretty stupid, if you think about it. The only reason we call it a marathon or set it at 26.2 miles is that the first person, on record, to do it died when he finished. He was a messenger (aka a domesticated human animal) sent to inform the recipient that they won the war. I’m not sure whether it was his idea or his job description, but he ran the distance rather than, say, walking it or riding a horse. Whatever his logic, it killed him. So, naturally, it has occurred to millions of people since then that they just HAD to try THAT! Woo hoo!

So, is that like a death wish? But, then, people will jump out of a perfectly good airplane for the thrill of it. To them, it’s not a death wish so much as thrill seeking. Because, you know, it might be awesome to go through it and actually survive. “Mere mortals have died doing this. Clearly, I am the epitome of awesome.” Some people walk barefoot on burning coals, others run… over normal-temperature surfaces, in high-tech shoes for extended distances. It’s the same.

That’s why I do it, of course: because it makes me awesome. Are you impressed? Clearly, millions of people are. Marathons are not just events for highly competitive, highly trained athletes to race each other and the clock simultaneously. The percentage of them in the crowd is extremely miniscule. No, millions of people run marathons each year and could not really care less what their time is or who finishes ahead of them. They run for “personal” reasons. Many do it as part of a larger exercise program or goal. The race itself is a motivation for slogging through the boredom for some metaphysical benefit. Some run to support a cause or another runner. If you’re going to run, it also helps to have crowds along the way cheering you on, particularly if they also don’t care about your position or time. Or, people run for a physiological benefit. And this is what we (humans) have become. We have avoided running for so long—because we COULD! HELLO?!!—that we have actually had to force it back on to ourselves or face “death” for some other reason than lack of food or becoming food ourselves. We even say stuff like, “You are what you eat” because we have made food acquisition so easy that we “are” fat, sugary, crème puffs… if you will. Thus, we run AWAY from our food… in a way. You may have to think about that one. Evolution is not as logical as you have been told.

I will say this about running: it’s hard to fake it. You can “bike” for 26.2 miles, or even double that, but in the process you can coast from time to time, especially downhill. Sure, physics suggest that you can only coast because you first provided the energy to sustain that motion in the first place. Sorta the same applies to rollerblading, if less so. When you stop moving your running legs, you stop. You cover zero distance until you start running again. You can slow down to the point of walking, even walking very slowly. But, you can’t coast. Some people “run” marathons at speeds that could easily be achieved by simply walking. Not that walking that far is very easy to do without practice, either. But, it’s easier to do than running at 6mph or faster.

6mph is arbitrary, granted. I chose 6mph for pragmatic reasons. 6mph means you are running one mile every ten minutes. You can easily understand how you are doing even if your odometer is measuring tenths of a mile (1 minute each). Also, I am forced to move my legs faster than I can “walk” when I keep that pace. More importantly, whether running for a specific distance or calorie count, the faster I run, the sooner I get it all over-with. If I could run at 10mph for a long enough time, believe me, I would.

But, I am miserable the whole time. In order to do it, I have to find some inner strength and motivation. That sounds way more impressive than the reality. For one thing, as all runners learn, there is a physiological phenomenon known as “second wind.” What that means is, if you think you could never start running because you would die trying, you’re half right. For the first mile or so, you will feel certain, slow death overtaking you. But, that feeling reaches a plateau, and after that your only real obstacle is the boredom. Well, your knees could buckle or your shins could ache or your side might feel ready to rupture—but ASIDE from all that, you won’t really get more winded. Somehow, the lungs are whipped into some form of submission and they continue to function at that necessary level rather than cause you to pass out and regain your sanity unconsciously. You may have to work up to it over several sessions, but it’s there. In a way, it’s a betrayal rather than a motivation, but I digress.

My real motivation, evidently, is anger. Hatred is more specific, I think. I hate running so much I refuse to submit to it. So, I fight against it. It tells me to stop. I run past it. It tells me I’m wasting my time. I waste more time. It tells me I have more interesting things I could do. I start yelling profanities at it. Oh, did I mention that I run in the privacy of my basement? My wife joined a gym. Many people join gyms. My wife thinks that men at the gym are funny (in an annoying way) when they grunt while lifting weights. Well, it’s better than listening to my steady tirade of profanities. But, I’ll spare everyone that one. So, yeah, I get the job done… in a miserable, grumpy, horrific haze of unpleasantries.

I’ll bet you love running, don’t you? Then, I hate you, too. BAH! Ok, not really.