The Long Run

Saturday was my longest run to date: 17.75 miles (28 km), with about 30 minutes of it at my goal marathon pace.

The mind, like the body, can wander to distant places during a run of this duration. I found my own thoughts bouncing between old memories and an acute attention to the present moment.

I ran along the Riverfront Trail and noticed that although the trees are still barren—they stand like an endless army of crooked dead things lining the Mississippi River—there are some animals returning. This is a precursor to spring. I saw some American robins hopping around in the grass, for example. I haven’t seen those little birds in that area for several months, though I’m sure they’re elsewhere in the city.

The second half of this run was against a harsh wind that blew northward. I ran directly south for almost 9 miles to return home. In times like this I suspect it’s less fun to be tall.

I felt fresh at the end and finished my run with plenty of energy remaining in my tank. I try to finish most runs feeling this way. If you deplete your system too severely, you may sacrifice too many future workouts for an exercise to be worthwhile. At times that may be okay: you have to cross your threshold to know your own boundaries. I’ve been beyond those boundaries enough times to have a good balance now. Still, I do find myself willing to cross it on occasion. It can be a nice reminder that I’m alive.

One thing that keeps me running is my appreciation for the running community. Events can barely feel like a competition between people because most runners tend to support one another. I’ve often seen runners who’ve finished ahead of me remain at the finish line, cheering for me and the others as I complete my own journey.

I really enjoy being a part of this sort of culture, especially as someone who primarily runs and bikes for the sake of longevity. It is a competition that elevates everyone and is a far cry from the stereotypical “cutthroat” American work culture competition, in which every victory must come at the expense of another (running is, at its heart, a sort of spirited rebellion against the adult status quo).

This mutual respect and desire to see everyone succeed also makes participation in running events more sustainable, which is exactly what I’m looking for: something to keep my adventures active for decades. Who wants to finish an event feeling both crushed and beaten? Running a distance event is itself a significant victory. Most of your coworkers probably couldn’t dream of walking as far as you just ran. As far as I’m concerned, you are a champion.

While peers hobble around with first-world conveniences and wax nostalgia for “youthful” days in which they moved with vitality, endurance runners seek the most treacherous mountain yet.

I suspect many runners are on similar journeys to me. I see mutual fighters against mortality, people seeking connection with an ancient part of human DNA. A long run therefore stretches to the extremes of past and future. It might be a search for answers to questions that can’t be articulated, and that’s okay: the odds of finding the answer were impossible anyways.