"You're going to anyway, but she's not going to care. Nobody cares."
I'd been telling him the same thing for years, from the time he fretted over wearing what appeared to be a snowsuit to his first 5k, held on the last Saturday of the year. I told him when he started to get a little more serious about running and his psychosis nagged about what he'd look like if he wore his Camelbak on race day. Even on the morning I showed up to run a half marathon in space-printed tights. So this was just the latest.
"I'm going to run this half in Vibrams. You know, the toe shoes?"
The poor woman could only feign interest, muttering, "Oh really?"
"I told you she didn't care."
Aside:
{While at first that sounds mildly dismissive, I actually meant it to help my friend break some sort of mental shackle, that anyone was paying attention to him or worrying about what he looks like when he runs. And if we zoom out a little bit, that's perhaps a mantra anyone considering adopting a fit lifestyle could use. Nobody cares. When you're at the gym, sweating your keister off, or modifying a push-up/plank/bench jump, nobody cares. In fact, most people are likely unaware you're even in the room. So just keep working, and show up the next day to do more work.}
When I first started running a little more seriously, it took everything in my power not to bombard everyone I talked to about my workouts. "I started adding speedwork." "My times are dropping." "I might consider running a half marathon." "I had to buy new pants...again." (Actually, that last one was annoying even to me because it seemed like I was buying new pants every few weeks as my waistline continued to shrink.) People are kind, sometimes, so, like the woman at the race expo, they would feign interest for a little while and mutter, "Oh really, RB," hoping I'd take the hint. They didn't really care.
My aforementioned friend, the toe shoes guy, recently asked me, "Why do you run?" In no particular order, here were (and are) my answers--though not an exhaustive list:
- to see Creation
- to be Creation
- meditation
- health
- prayer
- community
- joy
- peace
- gratitude
- a clear head
- time to think
- to set an example
- to inspire
- to be inspired
- praise
- compulsion
He noted that only one of those, and not the first on the list, was health. And that's truly why I keep at it. Sure there are reasons I continue to plunk down hard-earned dollars to run races (see: community; add: travel), but running makes me better at what I already am. Thanks, in part, to running, I'm a better husband, father, friend, son, brother, uncle, neighbor, mentor. Thanks, in part, to running, I pay more attention to my neighborhood, community, park, fellow man.
And with that, I'll do my best not to allow running to define me. Yes, I am a runner, but that can be (and has been, thanks to injury) taken away from me. If it defines me, when it's gone, there's nothing left. Essentially, if we chase something that's empty (say, buying a Volvo), when we achieve it, our lives cease to have meaning. (I know I'm getting a little deeper here, but that's also what happens when I run.) My friend, C.S. Lewis, has this to say:
Most people, if they really learn how to look into their own hearts, would know that they do want, and want acutely, something that cannot be had in this world. There are all sorts of things in this world that offer to give it to you, but they never keep their promise. The longings which arise in us when we first fall in love, or first think of some foreign country, or first take up some subject that excites us, are longings which no marriage, no travel, no learning can really satisfy. I am not speaking of what would ordinarily be called unsuccessful marriages or trips and so on; I am speaking of the best possible ones. There is always something we grasped at, in that first moment of longing, that just fades away in reality. The spouse may be a good spouse, the scenery has been excellent, it has turned out to be a good job, but "It" has evaded us.
So let's go for a run and hash this out a bit more, huh?
Some of these medals mean more to me than others, but I remember something about every race so they are all meaningful. Truth is, though, they hang in my closet...because nobody really cares.
