Running as a Metaphor

Life presents many exhilarating highs and devastating lows. It is because of this feature of life that many of us strive to secure an existence void of these exhausting extremes. We seek out careers with medical benefits and secure retirement packages. Despite these careful precautions life has a way of undoing plans in surprising ways. Part of what can prove to be so devastating at these moments is the unanticipated nature of such interruptions.

Believing the self-help gurus and purchasing their many wares, we can come to accept a presentation of a world where a positive mental attitude and systematic planning can prepare for every eventuality. A little life experience and honest reflection belies the sales pitch of such noisy peddlers. Life presents a multitude of unforeseeable and uncontrollable hurdles.

But we need space and means to reflect honestly and accurately on the nature of being human, along with all of its challenges and opportunities. I suggest here that the act of running, particularly the marathon, provides a poignant metaphor and occasion to engage life in meaningful ways. Sometimes described as the distance to hell and back, the marathon (actually 26.2 miles) possesses particular qualities due to this substantial distance. The length of this race entails significant risks of injury, including dehydration, heat exhaustion, and even sudden heart failure. Yet, the sense of exhilaration and accomplishment at the end of such an endeavor is hard to describe. Most important of all, running pits us against the limits of our existence in very real, physical and mental ways that allow us to reflect on how we can and ought to engage the constraints that we all feel in various forms.

The best example of such an engagement that I have experienced took place in my first marathon. I had trained well and thought I might be able to run my first marathon with a time of 3:15. The race went very well until mile eighteen at which time a debilitating fatigue overtook me (sometimes referred to as the "wall"). I pushed through this combination of mental and physiological weariness until mile 20 when my legs simply refused to run at the pace I had been maintaining up to that point. I learned later that my muscles had reached their lactate threshold, which is the point at which the lactic acid is produced in the muscles faster than it can be removed. By mile 22 I could hardly move my legs beyond much more than a slow jog. I stopped and walked at times but found that starting to run again too painful, so I just kept on running (or rather hobbling). I eventually finished and felt the thrill of prevailing in spite of the failure of my leg muscles.

At the time, no amount of positive thinking or self talk could have taken away the lactic acid in my legs. All that was left for me was the grim and painful push through the obstacle. The magic bullet for this particular issue came about from research into specific training techniques that condition the body to produce less lactic acid during a race (for information on the biochemical physiology of the lactate threshold, here is a good webpage). Forms of speedwork (fast paced runs at tempo speeds or sprints at relatively short intervals) have proven very effective and I have never experienced such muscle failure in a marathon since.

Like my experience in that first marathon, we do and will continue to encounter impediments and challenges that are very real and cannot be wished away. They will be more or less debilitating but can all be embraced and engaged. At times, the best that we can hope to do is endure and continue. At other times, careful study and proactive responses can enable us to overcome the challenges. As subsequent posts and discussions on this blog will demonstrate, running as a metaphor and practice provides numerous opportunities for reflection and insight into living a meaningful and vibrant life.