How a long-distance run can change you

Let me get this out of the way: I am not a runner. So why are we here exactly? Well, last year, the Great Manchester Run passed by my flat, and I thought “This looks fun! I’ll do this sometime soon.” Fast forward to about a month ago, I ran a 10k (≈6.2 miles) in 56 mins - with subpar preparation and no athletic background. Was it easy? Heck no. Did I enjoy it? Absolutely! And here’s what I learned from it:

Don’t compare – you never know anyone’s full story

Here I was, near to Go line, looking at the thousands of people anxious to get started. Some of my fellow participants caught my eye: from the frat boys geared up as if a world record was on the line, to the sexagenarian-looking lady rocking her “I beat cancer twice” t-shirt with the biggest smile in sight, and others with equally striking first glance impressions. Naturally, we look to each other to inform ourselves and evolve but must never compare. It’s a losing game.

By the end of that run, I experienced all the context I needed to understand the following: each participant, going their own pace, informed by their personal experiences, biases and privileges, is writing their story. It’s therefore best that I use what I encounter to water my grass and make it greener than yesterday.

All truths aren’t equal – what you abide to will shape your path

Around the 6k mark, my left groin was on fire. Not the good kind. I had pins and needles all over my midsection. Prior to this point, I had never run more than 7k, at a slower pace might I add. I was in uncharted territory. I had hit the rumoured “wall”. These are truths that I chose to overstand - to acknowledge them but not let them define my experience.

For a plane to take off, it must abide to the law (truth) of aerodynamics, making gravity irrelevant once in the air. – James Aladurin

I wanted to run to challenge myself. To see what I am truly capable of. I don’t know what that is, so running is one way to find out. I chose (and still choose) to abide to these truths, to filter/organise my thoughts, and strengthen my internal dialogue.

Although I felt like I had reached as far as my genetics would allow me to go, pushing through, for just a few more steps, made me realise that there is…

No place like the Zone

Suddenly, I’m gliding on concrete. No longer feeling pain (even though my body is hurting). Effortlessly enjoying the experience. How did I get here? Does it even matter?! I was fully present. Effortlessly enjoying the experience. I felt ALIVE. I didn’t need to learn any techniques or read how-tos.

Three weeks ago, I caught up with a close friend of mine who reminded me of a conversation we had, last year, about the long-term effects of long-distance running on the lower body. The opinion I shared during that conversation played a huge part in why I started training a year after the initial thought. Nonetheless, I now realise that the activity itself doesn’t matter. I could enter the zone doing anything. But not everything. All at once (just like we consume information nowadays). To be fully present, regardless of the company, activity and environment, that is how we pull the extraordinary from the mundane.

If you’re going to take one thing from this writing, let it be the following: The ‘magic’ we need, sometimes at key moments of our lives, is waiting to be unlocked in the side quests we’re avoiding. The conditions will rarely be ideal. If ever. I was struggling with my mental health and running served as an anchor to keep my head up whilst life was swinging (real hard) at me. The journey of exploring a side quest certainly won’t be perfect. And it doesn’t have to be - that’s why it’s a side quest! When you encounter the wall, push through and see what happens. Because I don’t believe side quests change you (sorry, I lied in the title). They just reveal parts of you the world is hiding, even to yourself.