What is Running?

As a runner without a team any longer, I often find myself asking the question: What am I running for? In high school and college there was always a clear goal- get into shape to beat people from the other teams and make sure I wasn't embarrassed on the first day of practice; now I finish a painfully-early morning run soaked in sweat and wonder to myself what the point of it all is. I recall swimmer friends of mine who had finished eligibility referring to themselves as 'swammers', but that doesn't fully encompass me anymore. I'm not a 'ranner' because I still run, but what do I- or anybody else for that matter- run for?

Running in the most basic sense is primal. We've all heard the stories about how our ancestors had to run down animals for miles and miles so they had food to eat. Our bodies as humans are better prepared for covering distances of 50+ miles moreso than almost all other animals of the world. In that sense we can literally chase our food to death. Because we don't live that way in America, we pursue passions of ours in much the same way, but events like ultrarunning (as long as it sounds) are gaining- dare I say- traction in many communities now. Due to our lack of actually struggling for food, we now have to find ways to challenge our bodies physically, thus the introduction of cross-fit, ultrarunning, and adventure racing. Because our bodies are so adapt to taking a beating, we have to make our big and long events even bigger and longer. I recall a few weeks ago I was running on a trail in the badlands and I came upon two mule deer eating peacefully on the prairie atop a butte. Silently I was able to approach them within 15 yards, but eventually they spooked and ran off. My first thought was to watch them go, but instantly after I wanted to chase them. I wanted to go off trail and run down the butte. I wanted to cross river and valley in pursuit of the animal that seemed faster. I wanted to keep going until I could stand next to my exhausted prey, it ready to concede defeat. I wanted to leave feeling satisfied. Instead I ran back to the campground and got ready for a 13-hour drive. But the instinct remains.

I think running goes even more primal than this. In my now six summers of working at a youth Bible Camp, I've seen my fair share of kids from all over central and western North Dakota. One thing I've noticed in the kids is the propensity to run everywhere they go. If they need to go to the bathroom, they take a buddy and run. If it's time for lunch they want to run to the lodge. If it's time to swim they run to waterfront. Everywhere they run, and yet it's something we take for granted. Take a moment to think about what goes on in your head initially before you run: you don't really say to your legs 'move faster and stride farther'- you just do it (not a nike sponsored post). Almost all of us are born with the eventual ability to run. It's like heartbeat in the sense that sometimes you can't even control it. For some reason, as we get older we don't run with the kids to places anymore. We walk or jog behind and reason that as long as they don't get too far away we are fine. We lose a little of that primal sense along the way. Our lungs forget how to breathe. Our legs forget how to take a little pressure. We forget the sound of the breeze flowing past our ears, not because of a tight pressure gradient after the passing of a low pressure system, but because we are moving faster than the air.

Wow, we are moving faster than the air.

One of the ways that running is most relevant now is through companionship. Running for many has become a means of finding like-minded people to share experiences with. There are thousands of different running groups, all with different purposes and inside quirks. Running a race has moved past winning and turned into a way to say that you ran and finished, which then becomes something to share with another person over a beer or a water. This sense of community is felt at all levels. Some professional runners claim to prefer training on their own, but many pros have training groups in order to successfully push each and have a little humanity. I myself can get weary some days when I have little reason to push. I wake up early enough that my primal instinct is shut off still, and with no other person to join, I could just as easily set the alarm for an hour later, roll over, and go back to whatever dream I was enjoying.

In this reason for running we tap into an inescapable fact about humans: we need other humans. Of course, there are hermits and loners among us, but at the human core is a desire to share time with other humans. Even in the story of when God created man, there was also a woman for companionship. School, work, camp, sports, camping, driving, singing, gardening- almost all we do is better with people to share it with. Running is no different. Many groups that run together find that secrets can be shared that nowhere else can allow. Something about sweating next to another person for miles and miles open up the heart a little and people can truly bond. I have had many runs with teammates where after we finish I will look at them and wonder to myself, 'did we really just talk about all of that?' Maybe being tired helps to break down walls and barriers, maybe staying mad at another person is harder when you are fighting your body to keep moving, and maybe sharing something as sacred as running can open you up, but life talks with runners while running is a real thing. Companionship keeps people moving.

One of the more profound reasons for running deals with the aforementioned fighting and pushing your body. Many can recall the horrors of living on the North Dakota prairie, because the lack of tree cover or mountains makes the land seem barren at times; you are perfectly exposed to all of the elements, all of the time. I am currently reading a book titled "Dakota: A Spiritual Geography" by Kathleen Norris, and in it she quotes a Pastor who says that in Dakota you "feel like everyone in the world can see you, but nobody is watching". This extreme exposure is a lot what being a runner is like- there is no hiding. I remember in my baseball days I could have a good game where I had a few good hits and pitched well, and to the casual observer who watched one of our games, I may have even seemed like a good ball player. However, even though runners can have their good days and bad days, there are limits. You can't have a 'good day' and run a 17:00 5k if you physically can't do that. If one person is faster than another, the faster person will win the race. The farther the race is, the more obvious this can become. Being one second faster than another in the mile can turn into 10 minutes in a marathon, and a close finish in an ultra is being 5 minutes apart.

The moral of the story is that racing is a fight against not only other races, but the clock. The track or the road can be a tragic and unyielding force of painful exposure of your fitness, but so can the clock. The clock is the most unforgiving of all things a runner faces; the clock could not possibly care any less about your training, your injuries, or how busy you've been. You either hit the time or you don't. You either beat others racers or you don't. You either finish your run or give up early and walk back home, head down and tail between legs. You either hit the alarm or hit snooze. You either run or you don't. How you do this doesn't affect the race course, competitors, or the clock. In other more team-oriented sports, these could be huge decisions, but in running they belong to you. And once you find companions to go with, all of your decisions immediately become obvious to all. In this year's Boston Marathon, the temperature spiked higher than people had expected, and many northern climate runners had little way to prepare for the heat. As a result, people blew up and struggled even to finish, and then the times were not even close to goals. There is no hiding at that point. You can't pass it off on teammates- it's on you.

This feeling can drive people away, but it can also pull people in. Knowing that running is a sport where the more you put in, the more potential to get out is comforting. How will you do when push comes to shove? Running is the great equalizer: once the run starts, all differences pass away. The more I learn about people, the more I come to not only understand our differences and struggles, but to love them. Running is something all people of all races, creeds, codes, ethics, religions, and genders can agree on and understand. Yet this drive cannot get me out of bed at 6am on a meager amount of sleep. I still want to sleep.

I recently had the privilege of spending a few hours with some youth who have not had life easy so far, and they make most of my daily struggles seem light in comparison. Some of the things that they would turn to in order to cope with life's stresses were things I would never consider doing, but everybody needs something like that. Every single one of us has things in life that we need some freedom from. Relatives, co-workers, work, cold- you name it and someone probably seeks asylum from it. We look for this peace in different things: drugs, alcohol, food, religion, relationships, nature, etc. For me, I've come to notice more and more than I can attain a deep peace from finding time to run and get away from everything currently going on. I honestly cannot count the number of times in college I came to practice stressed out and angry, and by the end of the practice I had forgotten about what I was bitter about. Yes, after practice everything would come back, but it never seemed as bad as before practice.

In the summer I've been able to see early morning sunrises and feel the fog lifting from the cool ground. I've been able to escape the camp for a short amount of time in order that I might have a place to breathe, to get away. Even where I proposed to Ingrid was someplace that we ran to, where we could be truly alone. I've been able to flee from the sound of big cities on running trails and gravel roads. I've been able to literally run from scary people or situations. I have went into corn fields to sit down and pray while listening to the wind roll across the leaves. I have been able to use running as a mental and physical form of rest, no matter how paradoxical that may seem. Many others have found the same peace, and that can also foster companionship. Running can be a natural way to flee something, but also to search for anything. We adventure and we seek, and the harder we look, the more beautiful what we find. If we let our minds go, pray, and seek peace, we can find it. No matter how much you run, the world still seems like a huge place. God's creation has little bits and pieces that are meant to be found only by the most diligent seekers, and running can take you there. Trust me, I've tried.

We are moving faster than the air.