Every human will at some point find themselves lonely. Loneliness is a basic human emotion that stems from our want and need to be around other humans, especially ones like ourselves. Just about every member of animal kingdom displays some sort of herd mentality or group organization, and humans are no different. Yes, of course, there are people that wish to be left alone and live by themselves in the backwoods, but that doesn’t mean they never wish to see anybody.
Runners are perhaps more susceptible to loneliness than other subgroups of people. As an activity, running usually involves stressing the human body and mind at the same time, and for most adults, this also happens alone. Thousands of people across the US (and world) are up before the crack of dawn grinding out miles in the morning chill before work or sliding along the silent streets long after most sane people have retreated to bed. By itself it may not be so bad, but for many of these people (myself included), we have tasted the deliciousness of group running from things like track and cross country in our youth. Gone are the days of prescribed practice times during the nicest parts of the day, where groups of similar-minded people get together. Gone is the shared sweat and craziness of racing. Gone are the easy runs and conversations with friends.
We have come up with innovative ways to deal with these problems. Adult running clubs have formed in larger cities as a means of bringing people together, and an added bonus (sometimes) of lobbying for access to the local high school track, which is usually locked up to all the public whose taxes paid for it. Local businesses will put on 5k runs or weekly meetups where runners can share in their agony of training and joys of the resulting successes. We have sophisticated musical technology, especially now with Bluetooth, that allows us to shut off the world around us and listen to our favorite tunes, giving us that added jolt to our step when we feel tired. We have treadmills set up at gyms, fully equipped with air conditioning, tv, music, and even simulated trails.
And yet, we cannot push away the loneliness.
When intervals become hard, who’s gonna know that we added 4 seconds to the recovery time? During long tempos, who will notice that we cut one mile off the total? On long runs, what can occupy our mind’s space for more than an hour, when all we can think about is sweat and pain?
The loneliest I’ve ever been while running was in the summer of 2018, when I had been dropped during the second half of the Maah Daah Hey Trail Marathon, and I found myself unable to take more than a few jog steps before walking. I was weak, exhausted, in pain, and completely and totally alone. There was no friend to lift me up with words of encouragement. There were no alternate routes or places to drop out. I had no access to any sort of music device or nutritional aid (other than water). I could see no competitors in the distance in any direction. Giving up was not an option; I had to drag myself and my damaged pride across the finish line, a mere seven miles away. Somehow, I finished, and I became tougher from that experience.
Do we grow from experiencing extreme loneliness?
There’s an argument to be made that when we are alone, we get a glimpse of what our true selves may be. In our world of social media and unprecedented mobility, we rarely find ourselves alone. Are we what we put on social media? In most cases, no. Are we what people see from us? Possibly. Are we how we behave when no one is looking- when we are trapped inside our own mind, waiting patiently to see where it takes us next? Absolutely. I learned in college that character is how you behave when no one is looking- being alone.
I had a new encounter with loneliness recently. I had just finished moving to Virginia, and my mom had accompanied me while Ingrid finished working back in North Dakota. After a few days, she had to leave. I drove with her to the Richmond Airport, dropped her off, and drove home. I walked into the house and it was quiet. Nobody was there. My cats were still a few weeks away. I had a few boxes of my things and a house with a heavy deadness to it. I was blessed by my uncle-in-law with a radio and auxiliary cord, so I listened to music quite a bit, but even that couldn’t drown out the quietness around me. I took the opportunity to pour over things I had written in high school and college; over time I started to rediscover who I had been, and how he compared to the current me. There were areas that I saw marked improvement, and areas where I saw a de-emphasis of something that I value. Without this change and loneliness, I would not have had this chance for personal reflection and growth. It was hard, but I grew from it.
Loneliness is an essential part of the human experience. In the Bible, we have references to Moses going to the top of the mountain to speak with God; we have Jesus seeking refuge away from the people to go pray; we also have Paul all alone in prison, writing letters of hope and forgiveness to churches. We have stories of different groups of people throughout history who would send out adolescents into the wild for days in order to discover something about themselves or something the Gods needed them to see. In our world, we have wrestled with loneliness and used our ingenuity to render it almost impossible to find, but it is still there. We are afraid of it, but it is something we all need. I was lonely when I was sitting in an empty home, crying because I missed it, but I now realize that few things were better at preparing me for the steps ahead than the loneliness behind.
