Running as a metaphor for life
Running is one of my favourite metaphors for how I take on life. It sticks because it’s the most tangible example I have to date. When I use it, most people either roll their eyes, nod in agreement, or stare blankly as I speak. If you’re not a runner, I invite you to visualize what it was like when you first picked up a new hobby and stumbled until hour upon awkward hour the light switches on, and you’re in its glow.
Before I add some mileage to my metaphor, this is where I’m going. It’s 2024! Happy New Year — the year of the freakin’ dragon. A leap year. The year I turn 40. As we turned the calendars, I thought about how I ended up here (physically, geographically, typing away) based on the collection of all my actions. And then I thought, instead of setting a New Year’s resolution, this year I’m going to actively pick the moments that will stack up. Eventually, I’ll hit the moon, right? At least I’m aiming in that direction.
The thought struck me not on a run but in my bathroom when I ran out of hyaluronic acid face serum, and wondered if I should bother buying more. Does this stuff really work? Even if it does, I spend xx dollars each time I buy these products in the hopes of smoothing out my fine lines, which are there regardless due to years of smiling and enjoying the outdoors often while smiling. Could I spend this money more wisely elsewhere? Alternatively, I could continue using it, and the consistent skincare routine will keep my face radiant and moisturized until scientists discover a more effective option. I have a lot of faith in the future after witnessing the sweeping changes from the nineties to where we are today (hello dial-up internet, floppy discs, Walkmans, corded phones, Blockbuster).
Where do I want to put my energy (that includes time and money) so that all the moments add up in a proactive way rather than my typical happenstance passive way? And this is it. Training for a half or full marathon is one of the most proactive, disciplined, approaches I’ve ever taken toward a set goal. Couldn’t I take that mindset and apply it to, for example, publishing a novel?
When I doubt this process, I think about my experience with running. I had an on-and-off relationship with running until I moved to Japan in 2009. I found my first, regular, running routine in a remote village in Nagano, where I taught English, as a way to explore the unfamiliar landscapes that surrounded me. There was this one hill near my apartment that I was determined to run up without stopping, gasping for air and needing to walk. Every day, I’d hit the wall, and walk/run up this hill that led to remote, lush, cabbage fields with a view of the active volcano, Mount Asama 浅間山. It was glorious. After weeks of stumbling and gasping through my fledgling running routine, I reached the top without stopping. Then I picked a new goal — another, longer hill. In 2010, I ran my first half-marathon. Two years later, I ran my first full marathon. My mantra during those golden years of my running career in Japan was “consistency is key.” I ran so often that I developed an intimate relationship with my body and the practice, to the point where I knew the intricacies of my pace to achieve my desired time goal. As long as I was consistent, and believed in myself, it would happen.
This is what I know. The moments I spent running added up to some incredible memories with friends, strangers, landscapes, and myself. I unlocked a door within me that showed what was possible if I was dedicated and disciplined enough to find the energy (time and money) to achieve my goal. I’ve started training to run a full marathon in 2024, if only to turn up the light within that knows this metaphor for life will prove true. In addition to the marathon, I’m putting my energy into — my novel, yoga, family, my career, travel and outdoor adventuring, and community. To balance all the doing, I’m making time for being, or relaxation and meditation. This is essential.
The challenge I face, and maybe many people do, is that running doesn’t come naturally. I have to work at it. The same goes for writing and my creativity. It’s been the constant thread throughout my life that has also, more often than not, taken the backseat to running and other outdoor activities. I’ll leave you with a quote from one of my favourite authors, Haruki Murakami, who speaks about these two subjects — running and writing — in his book “What I talk about when I talk about running,” and who gives me solace in this process.
“In other words, let's face it: Life is basically unfair. But even in a situation that's unfair, I think it's possible to seek out a kind of fairness. Of course, that might take time and effort. And maybe it won't seem to be worth all that. It's up to each individual to decide whether or not it is.”
— Haruki Murakami, in “What I talk about when I talk about running”
Yours Truly,
Fearless Forty
