November 27, 2023
Greetings from the shared,
If I ran the world, which it turns out I do, literally, I would ask everyone to become a runner.
I run alone on most days, but I was reminded yesterday of a bond, a shared courage, that links me to millions of others who hold a similar passion about how we go through life. How we run the world.
I come to this place in running from some very satisfying experience. I have run long distances consistently for most of my adult life, which in dog years is described as ‘eleventy-much’. In all of those miles, whether I was running a long strip of tarmac through cornfields, or chasing the squirming trail through lodgepole pines, I shared the experience with people from my tribe.
We are bound by thousands of tiny strands of affinity, a nearly invisible web of kinship that grows stronger with each mile, with each pair of shoes that is added to the total.
We are competing. We are improving. We are exploring our limits. We are just having fun. We are going nowhere in particular. We are training. We are failing. We are obsessing. We are winning. We are afraid. We are invincible. We are friends.
We are witnesses, to borrow from my friend George Sheehan, who told me that when we run we are testifying to who we are, and while an audience isn’t needed, the joy is in sharing the experience with those who respect the expression.
We are running with a partner, a group, in a club, in a mob, in a race, in a random group of people who happen to be going the same way. We are having an incredibly intimate conversation with a perfect stranger who is our new best friend.
We are running alone, but we are never alone.
The connection is in the little wave we exchange as we go by the other runner on the road. It is in the post race celebration, the prerace pictures, the Strava post, it is how we empathize about injuries, it is reading race results, and waiting at the finish line to cheer people you don’t know. It is sharing Gu and Bodyglide and safety pins and a few words of advice about that big hill at the end of the course.
It is how we listen to each other stories, say ‘Congratulations’ when we see a runner wearing a medal. It is hanging back with the new guy, it is in the look you give your partner when you are about to pour it on to cross the finish line ahead of her. It is “On your right” “Shoelace” “Looking good” “Keep going, you got this”.
That connection stays with us, not just in memory, but in the mitochondria we have in common, the twitch, the cramp, the dried sweat, the instinct that clicks us awake in time to be on the road before the sun comes up.
When I ran on Sunday I fell in step with myself first, but I felt the presence of the others within minutes. I am connected to every other runner alive. Every other runner ever. Every runner who will ever be, including those who have yet to lace up because they think running is crazy.
If you are watching us from outside of our passion, it may not resonate with you yet. It’s not a secret, so I can tell you, but this thing we share inside the runner’s bubble could be the answer to the world’s most challenging problems. We are the same flawed people as outside the bubble, but we are given a chance to be more.
It is the opposite of exclusion. We push back on judgment, on borders, on restrictions. There is loyalty and forgiveness and encouragement and laughter. Yes, we compete, but that is mostly a bookmark in the lifestyle. We run the world the way we hope it could be.
For most people, this is a curiosity, a peculiar activity that may not have an obvious purpose, other than some references to HDL or BMI. But trust me, it’s more. You can join anytime, and you can leave whenever you want, but you will always be welcomed back, and we’ll miss you while you’re gone. And every mile we run, we run with the part of you that is a runner too.
I’ll admit, it’s not all sunrises and dramatic victories. It is messy. It is sweaty and often dirty, there is spitting, there are muscles that ache and places that chafe. It can be hot, or cold, or rainy, it can be hard. But if you think it’s boring, come with me for one mile and let me change your mind.
If you shook a runner’s snow globe, what you see whirling around the landscape inside isn’t weather, it is runners. We are as individual as snowflakes, sparkling and unique, and at the same time we are all snow, all a part of one thing that is universal.
In nature, very little is isolated. The bird’s call, the root, the fallen leaf, the berry, the flow of the river, the predator, all are connected to other places in the ecosystem. Every stroke of the hawk’s wing, every time a trout breaks the surface of the water, each broken thing that dissipates to add nutrients to the tree’s life, is part of some other living thing that feels the difference and responds in some way. Or just knows.
And so it is with runners. We are bound by arete, by desire, by loss and hope, by the drive to seek what it possible in us and those around us. When one of us runs, we all run. We feel the challenge, the victory, the setbacks, we sense the strength in each other, even as we struggle to find our own.
There is no one answer to world peace or more friends or longer life or being happy. There are many paths to those destinations, but from my perspective, the best way to reach the place is to run there.
Hope this finds you running with us,
David
Copyright © 2023 David Smith
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