Chekhov's Mistress

In Appreciation of the Long Distance Runner

by Bud Parr

I wrote something not long ago with the idea of a jogger as sort of the scenery for where I’m at with my writing. It was not until I went to see the runners at yesterday’s New York City Marathon that it hit me how much writing and running are alike. This sort of thing has probably been written about before because the parallels are great.

Runner Watching thousands of slightly pained (we’re early on the route) faces run past and the ecstatically cheering wall of people, it became clear to me how much those runners are alone and how much they need both the strength of their inner solitude and the support of that crowd to keep going.


I used to run quite a bit and participated in races so that I always had some sort of goal ahead of me. The peak of my running accomplishment was the San Diego half-marathon (now I have knee issues). A half-marathon is roughly the equivalent to writing a bunch of short stories, where the marathon is probably more like running a novel. Neither are easy, but the last few miles of a full marathon are tougher than the entirety of a half, so I’m told.


What I do know first hand, is that rush, endorphins I think, that a runner gets after kicking into a hard stride, and on the other side, the listlessness that overcomes you when you can’t work out. Over the last couple of weeks, I’ve been working on a project with no time to read or write. I finally managed to crack open a book on a subway trip and felt so good that I wanted to stop everything and read all day. It just felt so good.


I suppose I could go on about this, but it doesn’t feel like an original idea, just something I can relate to having spent a lot of time both writing and running and knowing a least something of the triumphs and pains of both.

posted November 07, 2005

comments

Go on, go on. Or don’t. I watched from home yesterday. The beloved toddler begged for her shows, but I forced her to watch the runners and we saw the whole thing (fingerpainting and mixing up tart dough, vacuuming and buidling towers in the interstices). It’s incredibly moving--you know that I, too, have thought about this. Perhaps we should return to (read?--I think I’ve only skimmed it) The Loneliness of the Long-Distance Runner or even Updike: Rabbit’s a great runner. But his running is more about running from, not training. I do think there’s a new great essay in here somewhere, but I don’t quite see it. (Of course *walking* is the great English metaphor.) I want to turn to Beckett. I can’t go on. I’ll go on. Thanks for this Bud!!

    – Anne (11/07  at  09:03 PM)


Running is accepting pain, living pain, and turning that pain into a driving motion.

“Imagine your pain as a white ball of healing light. That’s right, a white ball of healing light.”

I ran 5k races in high school for 2 years. It was the best thing I ever did.

    – Daniel Nicolas (11/07  at  09:44 PM)


Yes, your post is so true. I run, I write, and often think about the similarities. I also find during long runs that I am often writing and rewriting in my head--I think it has something to do with the rhythm, the meditative state of running. I’m pretty sure that Joyce Carol Oates (also a dedicated runner) has written an essay about this.

    – gkb (11/27  at  11:18 PM)


Page 1 of 1 pages of comments

Commenting is not available in this weblog entry.

This site employs rank-denial and other anti-spam measures.
Your link here will do nothing for your rankings or traffic. Off-topic comments will be deleted.




Next entry: 9rules
Previous entry: Happy Halloween

« Back to main

About this Post




Barack Obama Logo