The Best Thing About Running — Hear Me Out
It was a hot, August day more than a decade ago, I’d cycled miles and miles through the French countryside with a bunch of friends on our rented bikes. Paper maps in hand we were lost, sweaty and sore of bottom.
Like an oasis in the desert, a small village appeared shimmering on the horizon. Within seconds bikes were tossed aside, beer was ordered and we felt like kings.
One of our party, we’ll call him Mitch, imparted these words of wisdom:
“The best thing about cycling, is not cycling.”
Quite right we nodded in agreement as another round was duly ordered.
Could I find that bar again? Absolutely not. Am I grateful for smartphones and free data roaming that would have accompanied a ride today? Hell yes — get your sweaty hands off it, Brexit. But that afternoon was epic, especially the bit where we stopped and laughed like drains before merrily heading for home.
When Running Bites
Sometimes running can be just like that. Aside from tired legs, bursting lungs, and a strong desire to wee in a bush, there’s the mental gymnastics you and your brain perform together. Conversations for me often go like this:
0KM to 1KM — this is easy, I’m a running goddess.
1KM to End — make this stop, this is shit.
In fact, my brain often takes a break. That’s when I’m in my flow and things are going great. This usually takes place when I’ve stopped to admire a view, scrooshed (you’re going to need to accept this word) a friendly dog, or had a wave from another runner fleetingly sharing both pain and motivation.
I do think about times and distances, but there’s something about trail runs that makes them matter far less than running on tarmac or pavement.
But afterwards, well that’s when I’m in my running element. Walking through the door caked in mud from the trail, with tales of scrooshy dogs (oh yes, I made it into an adjective), getting lost and battling against the weather — I feel great. More than that, I feel happy.
Of course, I know that’s when the endorphins have kicked in but aside from the chemical perks of physical activity, there’s the deep satisfaction of just getting it done and the joy of defining some of my identity as a runner and being part of the running community.
So for me, often, the best thing about running is not running. It’s the warm glow after a tough, muddy slog or planning the next adventure. That’s what I love. That’s what keeps me going back. That and all those dogs I get to scroosh (verb).
