Suffering Is Optional (But Apparently Unavoidable)

Words of wisdom from Haruki Murakami that changed my opinion about running.

Welcome to the Midlife Field Guide.
One year.
Two Gen X friends.
Countless personal life experiments.
Can they figure out the meaning of midlife?

After overcoming my teenaged asthma-induced fear of running, I signed upfor a 10 km race, and strated training with a trot around a single block in part one of this experiment.

Since then, I spent this past summer attempting to ramp up my fitness and running prowess in an attempt to find a shared activity with my wife, Debbie.

My First Ever 5 km

After circling the block for a while, I was invited to run 5 km with my wife, Debbie, and her friend, Roxanne, both of whom run half-marathons. This felt like a giant leap from running around the block. I reluctantly agreed.

We headed down to Vancouver’s False Creek seawall near Olympic Village. Debbie and Roxanne knew how nervous I was and restrained themselves with a turtle-like pace. When we hit the turnaround point at Granville Island, I was already tired. Only halfway! Gah!

As I trudged back the way we had come, I quickly realized that I had missed a way to frame this optimistically: I was continually getting closer to the end of the run. I’m not sure whether it was exhaustion, “runner’s high,” or delerium, but at some point on the return leg, I mentally and physically eased up. I lost track of the time. I stopped attention to the effort being expended. And suddenly, it was over.

I had run 5 km.

The pace was far from blistering, at just under 34 minutes, but I had done my first 5 km run… ever. And I’d done it with Debbie!

What Do You Listen To When You Run?

I knew that with a 10 km race a few months away, I needed to put in some more regular running time and it wouldn’t all be with Debbie.

This raised an interesting question: what should I listen to when I run? A music playlist? An audiobook or podcast? Nothing?

I decided to start running while listening to famed Japanese novelist Haruki Murakami’s audiobook, “What I Talk About When I Talk About Running.” It felt like a very meta decision to listen to someone writing about running, while I was running… in anticipation of writing about running.

It turned out to be the perfect choice.

This is what I think about when I listen to Haruki talk about what he talks about when he talks about running.

I listened to the story of Haruki’s first race, and the first time he put a pennant on his shirt. As I ran, I imagined myself doing the same thing in a couple of months at the Eastside 10k. #visualizationFTW!

I listened as Haruki told of the transformational impact that giving up smoking had on his life, and thought about my own in-progress experiment of giving up alcohol.

One day, I was doing a 5 km run on a steamy summer day and I was quickly running out of steam. At the same time, I was listening to Haruki talk about running from Athens to Marathon in absolutely blazing heat. If Haruki can do that, I told myself, I can certainly keep going and finish my 5 km. And I did.

Haruki writes a lot about the parallels between running and writing, and the discipline it requires to be successful at both. He says that consistency of effort beats intensity of effort. And whether it’s running or writing, if you want to be successful, you have to commit to a practice, show up every day, and teach your brain and your body that this is the work required of it. Duly noted!

Soon, I began looking forward to my runs, thanks in large part to Haruki.

My runs became a regular source of surprise for those that knew me well as a Professional Running Hater. I ran into my buddy, Todd, while running in our neighbourhood. He was incredulous.

“What has gotten into you? I can’t believe what I’m seeing! Why are you doing this?”

Am I turning into Forrest Gump? Growing a beard and suddenly running all the time?

RUN, STEPHEN, RUN!

Maybe not so much…

Suffering Is Optional

One of the big messages of Haruki’s book is this: suffering is optional. It’s all about your mindset.

One day, I was out for a 5 km run, and yet again, it was pretty hot. I was listening to Haruki talk about running an ultra marathon and having to treat his body like a mechanical robot, mile after mile, for 62 miles. It sounded torturous, but it was also inspiring.

I hit a point where I could turn right and run my usual 5 km… or I could instead turn left and add another 2-3 km to the run, mostly through forest trails. Inspired by Haruki, I turned left.

Before I knew it, I had done my longest run ever: 8.5 km. A far cry from Haruki’s 62 MILES, but it was still a big milestone for me.

The next day, however, my legs were sore and I could barely get down the stairs. #oldman

The Magic of Running Reveals Itself

I have hit a point where I am finally beginning to understand why people like running.

For the first kilometre or two, I notice my breathing and it’s uncomfortable. And then something magical takes over. The focus on breathing fades into the background and I start having some interesting thoughts. My mind wanders in a wonderful way when I’m running. I do a lot of really solid thinking, including loads of ideas for creative projects. I also enjoy leaning into extended, stupid daydreams. It’s like a mini-vacation from real life. I’m out here for a decent amount of time with no screen, connectivity, interruptions, notifications, or messages.

It is surprisingly meditative. The freedom to relax and be present is an unexpected gift of this activity I have hated for so long.

At the end of a run, I always feel better than when I started. It’s the same with Haruki’s book. Soon, I’m nearing the end of the audiobook and getting sad that I will have to find something else to listen to while running.

In the last section of the book, Haruki confronts his aging body. He is no longer able to achieve the times or results that he wants in marathons and triathlons. He realizes in the end that inefficient efforts are still worthy. There are always going to be other people who are faster than you. As you age, you will not be able to compete with your younger self.

And yet, it is still worth running.

At 53, preparing to run my first ever race, I need to hear this.

I’m very sad to finish Haruki’s audiobook. It was a perfect companion for my initiation into running and now it’s done. Now what am I going to listen to???

Music for Running

I build myself a midlife running playlist on Spotify and it is filled with some truly cringe-inducing songs, arranged extremely randomly. I will admit to being particularly pleased with myself when I can find a perfect combination of beats and mid-life running themes.

Songs like Hard Road by Sam Roberts, Runnin’ Down A Dream by Tom Petty, Hurts So Good by John Mellencamp, and Everyday is a Winding Road by Sheryl Crow spur me onwards.

I have decided to start all my runs with Spirit in the Sky by Norman Greenbaum for a couple of reasons - it’s one of my favourite guitar licks of all-time and it’s also a great reminder that I’m not going to be here forever and to appreciate the time I’ve got.

I’m not sure I like running to music as much as an audiobook. The songs are too familiar and my mind kept wandering back to actual running and breathing. I did get some nice daydreaming and idea generation done, but it was nowhere near as much total absorption as Haruki’s audiobook.

I also noticed that I seem to adjust my pace to the beats in the songs. I slowed down with slower songs and picked up my pace with faster songs. I should look up what an ideal cadence is for running a 10 km race in 55 minutes and pick a bunch of songs with that number of beats per minute.

The Strava Effect

I’ve written about Strava before. It’s like Facebook for Exercise. Or more like LinkedIn for exercise, because it involves a lot of humble bragging. I guess there is a value to having a little community of people supporting you in your running or biking or swimming, but it also seems to add a layer of social pressure and gamification to exercise.

Does Strava change my running? Yes, it does. Instead of stopping my run when I get back to my house with a total distance of 4.85 km, I will do little extra loops or stretches until I hit 5 km. I feel great when I see that I have set personal best times in some distance or segment of the run, and I will feel disappointed in myself when I fail to do this.

I recently did a 5 km with Debbie, and ran into a friend who wanted to chat for a few minutes. It was nice to see the friend, (and honestly, nice to stop running briefly) but all I could think about was that this unexpected encounter was ruining my Strava segment times. I actually considered not posting my run because the times would look weird. Damn you, Strava and your gamified mind-games! (And yes, I am pathetic.)

I generally feel worse about myself when I’m on Strava, because so many people on there do extreme distances. My “insanely long” run of 8.5 km is a warm-up trot for many people who often run 20 km or bike 100 km on a regular basis.

An Impulsive Run

In mid-August, I headed out for a run. I wasn’t sure how long I was going to run when I got out there, but I just kept running and suddenly I was 5 km away from my car. WHAT?!?!

I quickly turned around and headed back, knowing that I was going to have to do 10 km to get home. The turnaround point was a little hard mentally. I was already tired. It was hot. And I was only halfway done. The last few kilometres were slow and pretty hard. But I made it back to my car.

I was SO overheated by the end that I poured sweat for a full 30 minutes after finishing.

But… I ran a full 10 km! My longest run ever.

I feel a massive sense of accomplishment for hitting this milestone. I feel anxiety going down because I now know I can actually run 10 km without dying. Slowly but surely, I’m making progress, both physical and mental. I think I will be able to run the Eastside 10k race.

A Real Pain in the Arch

It’s a few weeks before the big 10 km race and randomly, I have noticeable soreness in my left side.

Outer left foot pain. Left heel pain. Left hamstring pain. Left IT band pain.

I have a hunch where this is coming from. I have an arthritic big left toe, a.k.a. Hallux Rigidus. I think I’ve been avoiding pushing off my big toe, which has left me running on the outside of my left foot.

This is the sh*t part of midlife. I’m no longer invincible. Chronic injuries like my toe lead to other weird injuries. And at this age, every single injury takes forever to heal.

I reached out to my friend who is a podiatrist and got a cancellation appointment for the next day.

Foot Fault

I had a foot exam. I had x-rays. I had my feet taped up to provide better support and was fitted for new orthotics. (My current orthotics are apparently awful.)

I found out that both my big toes have some arthritis and may eventually require surgery. I also have a bone spur and a bone fragment in my toe joints. FUN! None of this bodes well for my looming race.

A Real Pain in the Calf

A few days later… injury! On the other side!

I tweaked something in my right calf going up a hill on a fairly easy 6 km run. I thought it was a cramp and decided to keep running. It came and went, but didn’t go away.

An hour post-run, it was still there, despite stretching, rolling, and hammering it with a Theragun. I took Aleve and coated it in absolute gobs of Voltaren.

I went to see Lishan Sharples, who has competed in the Kona World Ironman Championship and first gave me the advice to run around a block a single time. He told me that I have strained my Soleus muscle. I did not know that the Soleus muscle even existed prior to this. It apparently sits underneath the calf. I injured this hidden muscle by running up too steep a hill. Damn you QE Park hill!

After digging into it and stretching it out for a bit, he thought it wasn’t too bad and encouraged me to try ten or fifteen of running tomorrow. He told me that as far as running injuries go, this is the best one possible and shouldn’t impede my training too much.

I’m nervous. Taped feet, sore hamstrings, glutes, and IT bands, and now a pulled Soleus muscle in my right leg... I’m a mess!

The One Month Countdown

It’s one month until the 10 km race.

I headed out for a trot with my taped up feet and injured Soleus. I eventually did close to 4 km in a little over 20 minutes of running and no ill effects. I feel like I have dodged a massive bullet with this injury scare. Already, I feel like I’m back on track for the big race!

Also… I felt pretty badass running through injury. I feel like Old David Goggins.

The Two Week Countdown

Two weeks to race day.

I got a tip from a friend that wearing compression socks to bed at night helps with sore feet. Prior to this conversation, I did not know that compression socks existed. That same day, I rushed out and bought compression socks. I am pretty sure that this is a dangerous midlife precedent.

Debbie did not look impressed (or remotely turned on) as I climbed into bed with these compression socks strangling my feet.

Next week on the Midlife Field Guide… race day:

Can I survive my first ever race and complete 10 km of running? Can I avoid total humiliation? And can I have fun doing it all with Debbie?

Thanks for reading - see you next edition!

Steve

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Check out Part 1 of this Running experiment: Running PTSD

And here is the final instalment of the Running experiment: I Got Creamed By Corn and Waterboarded Myself.

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