Reasons to run

On a completely different note, because I've returned to running and reading about running, answers to another "why": why run:

I run to eat.

I run for a few minutes of solitude.

I run to think.

I run to be healthy.

I run to make my resting heart rate more peaceful.

I run to have more energy and to use up negative energy.

I run to keep my legs in shape.

I run to be outside.

I run to hang out with other runners.

I run to compete with other runners.

I run because Chariots of Fire makes me cry.

I run for the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat, even if I'm only racing my watch.

I run because I feel good when I'm done.

I run because every once in a while I feel good when I'm running.

I used to run to exercise the dog.

I run to have something to do with the kids.

I run to have something to do without the kids.

I run away from and back to.

I run because it helps me blow off steam, literally and figuratively.

I run to put things into perspective.

I run to see what's going on in the neighborhood, what changes are made with the seasons.

I run because I like comfy running clothes and shoes.

I run because I usually notice something to be thankful for.

I run because I'm thankful I have a body to use.

I run because it is a gift.

I run as a time for and a form of prayer.

I run because I love running.

And now I know, because I read Born to Run: A Hidden Tribe, Superathletes, and the Greatest Race the World Has Never Seen by Christopher McDougall, that I run because of deep seated biological necessity.  The human person evolved as a long distance runner to hunt down dinner, and so the human body is designed to run long, slow distance.  Or so he claims.

This book was what encouraged the barefoot running trend a few years ago. It came out in 2009, and Vibram Five Finger shoes were just coming out on the market. Now the trend has reversed again and mega-padded running shoes are back in demand.  I didn't buy into the barefoot runners, although I had some racing flats back in the day.  I can understand the arguments for barefoot running across a field or a beach, but when you run on concrete or asphalt every day, a little padding and protection from debris is essential.  But how to run isn't the essential message of the book - it's more about why people run far.

This book is incredibly readable, even for the non-runner, I would think. McDougall moves back and forth in time and place between a narrative about a contemporary ultra-marathon, histories of long distance running and running trends, a look at evolutionary biology, and the description of a "lost tribe" in Mexico. His style is entertaining, he throws out a few outrageous claims to keep you intrigued, and he creates interest in his characters.  He makes runners take pride in their history of impressive magnanimity and great camaraderie.  I might recommend it to non-runners looking for inspiration to start running as a means to find peace and health, and runners will definitely find something to enjoy in it, but it's not a must-read.  I picked it up at Goodwill over the summer, and after it sits around here a couple more months to see if any of the teenagers want to read it, it will go back to Goodwill.

But not before I note these quotes I liked:

"That was the real secret of the Tarahumara: they'd never forgotten what it felt like to love running. They remembered that running was mankind's first fine art, our original act of inspired creation. Way before we were scratching pictures on caves or beating rhythms on hollow trees, we were perfecting the art of combing our breath and mind and muscles into fluid self-propulsion over wild terrain. And when our ancestors finally did make their first cave paintings, what were the first designs? A downward slash, lightning bolts through the bottom and middle -- behold, the Running Man."

"'There are two goddesses in your heart,'" [Coach Joe Vigil] told them."'The Goddess of Wisdom and the Goddess of Wealth. Everyone thinks they need to get wealth first, and wisdom will come. So they concern themselves with chasing money. But they have it backwards. You have to give your heart to the Goddess of Wisdom, give her all your love and attention, and the Goddess of Wealth will become jealous, and follow you.' Ask nothing from your running, in other words, and you'll get more than you ever imagined."

"Vigil wasn't beating his chest about the purity of poverty, or fantasizing about a monastic order of moneyless marathoners. Shoot, he wasn't even sure he had a handle on the problem, let alone the solution. All he wanted was to find one Natural Born Runner -- someone who ran for sheer joy, like an artist in the grip of inspiration -- and study how he or she trained, lived, and thought. Whatever that thinking was, maybe Vigil could transplant it back in American culture like an heirloom seedling and watch it grow wild again."

"Was [a Czech runner] a great man who happened to run, or a great man because he ran?  Vigil couldn't quite put his finger on it, but his gut kept telling him that there was some kind of connection between the capacity to love and the capacity to love running. The engineering was certainly the same: both depended on loosening your grip on your own desires, putting aside what you wanted and appreciating what you got, being patient and forgiving and undemanding.  ...

"Perhaps all our troubles -- all the violence, obesity, illness, depression, and greed we can't overcome -- began when we stopping living as Running People. Deny your nature, and it will erupt in some other, uglier way."

"Like Caballo, the Tarahumara secret had begun working for me before I even understood it.  Because I was eating lighter and hadn't been laid up once by injury, I was able to run more; because I was running more, I was sleeping great, feeling relaxed, and watching my resting heart rate drop. My personality had even changed: The grouchiness and temper I'd considered part of my Irish-Italian DNA had ebbed so much that my wife remarked, "Hey, if this comes from ultrarunning, I'll tie your shoes for you." I knew aerobic exercise was a powerful antidepressant, but I hadn't realized it could be so profoundly mood stabilizing and - I hate to use the word -- meditative. If you don't have answers to your problems after a four-hour run, you ain't getting them."

"Running didn't just make the Seris a people. As Coach Joe Vigil would later sense about his own athletes, it also made them better people."