Running To Stand Still

I've worked out regularly for the better part of my life, whether it's weights or hockey or tennis. Over the past six months, I've also discovered the awesomeness of kettlebells, and I consider myslef a convert. I've also started enjoying running -- not just liking it, but loving it and needing it at least once a week.

It's a sick and twisted notion, if you think about it. What's their to enjoy about running? A few weeks back, we got the Back To The Future trilogy on Blu-Ray and there's a scene in Part 3 where Doc is explaining to the old west saloon goers that people in the 1980s run "for fun, for recreation."

One guy responds appropriately: "What the hell kind of fun is that?"

My wife turned to me and immediately agreed. And for a long, long time, I totally felt that way too. I'd rollerblade, bike, or do anything cardio except run. The only reason I would run is when I'd go months in between working out and I needed something quick and easy to get back into shape.

Around February, I bartered some website development work for a month of free kettlebell personal training. Each of the kettlebell sessions started with a one-mile run to warm up. It'd probably been a good six months since I last played hockey, so my legs weren't there. From that point on, I started running a mile, mile and a half around my neighborhood so I wouldn't be terribly winded for the rest of my kettlebell workouts.

A strange thing happened after about two weeks of this -- I started to like it. It hit when I extended my run to about two miles; the last half mile, I felt really good and I wanted to do more. This is probably the endorphins kicking in around the 15-minute mark, AKA the runner's high. Whatever the case, I steadily built myself up to a point where I'm doing five miles at least once a week. It helps that I live by the San Francisco Baylands and Shoreline Lake in Mountain View.

Of course, this is a blog about writing, and here's the connection. Yes, there's the runner's high thing, but I've discovered another thing I really enjoy about running. It's pretty zen being out there, just by yourself, in total control of just your body as you move from A to B. It's a lot like writing, actually -- it's a solitary commitment, and you're alone with your thoughts while you do it. Once I realized this, I've found that going for a run actually helps my creativity. During runs, I've worked out opening lines, a query synopsis, short story plot, scene outlines, and other such things to help get the job done. (I've also turned the computer immediatley on upon getting home to jot all this down.)

After all, it's just you and nature out there. No distractions, no Facebook or TV or sports or annoyingly cute pets to take away your focus, just the words floating around your head and the ground beneath your feet.

I don't know if this is a temporary thing or a cure-all to writer's block. But for the past two months or so, I've set out on each run with a writing problem in my head. By the time I get home, it feels sorted out, or at least the ball's rolling towards a solution. All it took was a lot of sweat and a little zen to get it done.

And now for your listening pleasure, here's where I stole the post title from. The tune's not about exercising, zen, and/or writing; instead, it's about heroin addiction in the industrial parts of Dublin, Ireland. Same difference, right?