What Do You Mean, "Retired"?

I've had a couple of people ask me over the last months, when I spoke about taking a break, if I plan to keep running. I've been running for almost twenty years - of course I plan to keep running. And I have been running over the past four months, just not nearly as much as I had been before. A similar question after my last post has been, what do I mean when I say I'm "retiring" from running? It's not from marathons - since I'm hoping to do a trail marathon this fall. It's not from trying to get faster - since I'm training for a 5K right now, and while I don't hope to break my PR at this one, I do have a goal in mind, and will try to PR later this year.

It might be from trying to be fast at longer distances, anything over an hour (so over a 10K for me). Or of road marathons, since my feet and knees complain when I spend too much time on pavement. But I think it's mostly from the pressure I've felt in the past around running.

I do know I can't quit running. Not that I had any intent of doing so, but over the past few weeks I've also come to see that I can't quit the urge to push myself in it. What I suppose I am doing is redefining the terms under which I am willing to push myself, and quitting those aspects that don't serve me.

But I do need to push.

Mentally: Can I do this? I can do this. I can do this but only by applying X tactic or by asking for help or by analyzing my weaknesses or by trying something new or by trying again or by pulling back here so I can move forward there. Until, oh hey, I did this.

Physically: That sensation of pushing against myself, finding those edges of discomfort or what I think is possible and massaging those edges, looking to see how I might do more, find a way around, stretch the edges out. Or sometimes just stomp over them, unthinking, unfeeling, Murakami's running machine. Until at some point I look back and see, oh, that's where I was - but I'm not there anymore.

Sometimes it's from finding new resources of power. Swing those arms, drive yourself forward, up that hill or through that interval. Straighten that spine, lift your head, raise your gaze and feel breath enter you fully. Let the energy of the day - sun, wind, rain, ground - be your energy too. Or the energy of the music, or a mantra, or even just counting: one, two, three, four. Or double-time: one-and-two-and-...

Sometimes it's finding new sources of endurance/stamina. Lots of mind games here. (And why not "games"? Is this not all play?) Paying attention, fully, to what surrounds me: colors, people, places. Or letting my mind ride some thought elsewhere. Or reminding myself of what I can do. For this I sometimes think of being in labor. Either one will serve; D's was long, days-long, and there was nothing to do but keep moving forward, trying new things, making adjustments, until he finally turned and was ready to move out. G's was fast, out of all control, nothing soothed me, nothing eased, all I could do was roar him out. What's any one run, no matter how long or painful, held next to those? But we forget what power we hold.

I think what I'm retiring from (or said otherwise: letting go of) is any sense that my running has to be for anything more than myself. I know I need running (or other movement that is sometimes meditative, sometimes intense) to feel right in my body, to be settled. And I take better care of myself in all areas when I have that movement. I like to push myself in my running - and I'm still exploring what that desire is about - and having race goals helps me do that. But I think I'm retiring from serious attachment to those goals. My last two marathons I needed to detach from a particular outcome to be able to enjoy them - and I did, but only late in the game when that was my only good choice. My first time out I never let go of that pressure on myself and not only did I not enjoy myself but I barely remember any of it. And every time I remember thinking, what would it have been like to train without having that pressure? Can I even do that?

So I guess I'm practicing that this year. A trail marathon will be a new thing for me, and I know my approach will be different, has to be different. To take a page from the habit-change literature, I'm changing my environment to make it easier to change my behavior (or thinking in this case).

Of course another question, unanswered, is: What exactly is it that makes me want to run so long? I really don't know. Perhaps as I keep running I'll find out.

"Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books that are now written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer." ~ Rainer Maria Rilke

(I've quoted this here before but it's a good one.)

Yours in questioning,
Annie

Recent Readings

Winter comes and along with it a desire to read comic books. Graphic novels, I suppose I could say, since what I'm reading is solidly bound and available in all your finer bookstores and libraries. But really, they're comic books.

Rereading an old classic, the Sandman series by Neil Gaiman:

We have some of the volumes in the original editions,
but I'm filling in our collection with this new reprinting.

And I've discovered what I think will be a new classic, Saga, by Brian K. Vaughan and Fiona Staples:

He also wrote Y: The Last Man, which we also have. 

The boys are used to plundering The Dude's collection; he has an extensive collection of both the classic and new renditions of familiar characters (Batman, Superman, The X-Men, Legion of Superheros, etc., etc.). I think he's set aside certain volumes he doesn't want them stumbling on. My collection, however, is pretty much only stories I don't want them stumbling on. Of course, D was so intrigued just to see me reading a comic book that I suspect he'll do his damnedest to get his hands on them. Perhaps a locked bookshelf?

It hasn't been all comic books this season, I've had a rich fiction run as well.

I'm continuing in my quest to read everything by Haruki Murakami: After the Quake, Hear the Wind Sing, and Pinball 1973 are the ones I finished this fall and I'm currently reading Kafka on the Shore. I had vaguely been trying to read them in order but I think I've given that up.

I've found a new author whose works I'm so in love with I will probably also try to read them all, poetry and prose: Chris Abani. He's given a couple of TED talks and here is one of them. I then discovered that he's currently teaching at Northwestern University, just north of Chicago in Evanston, which made me think that maybe he'll give some lectures in the city sometime; sure enough, he's speaking at the main library in April and I've already extracted a promise from the family that I can take that day off to go listen and then stand in line for a very long time to have a book signed. The question of course is which book? I own a number of them now and have read Song for Night (a novella) and Sanctificum (poems).

In the middle of my scary movie/book month I also read Ta'Nehisi Coates Between the World and Me. I think this is pretty much required reading for any white person in the United States. That is, of course, if you actually want to be part of making things better in the world rather than just coasting by.

Oh, and I finally finished Citizens of London: The Americans Who Stood with Britain in Its Darkest, Finest Hour by Lynne Olson. A fascinating book, lots of information I hadn't been aware of, and despite the seemingly uplifting title, also kind of another indictment of America, in documenting how long it took for America to enter the war, how much we dragged our feet in becoming fully engaged once we did, and then how we behaved with our Allies once it was clear that the war was being won. The individual troops may rightly be called "The Greatest Generation" as they are referred to in this country, but our government, not so much.

Now on to read some more.

Eagerly,
Annie

What I've Been Up To (Part 3B)

Back to the writing. Sometime in June I had the thought, when I'm dying, what will I most regret not having done? And the answer was immediate: Not writing the book(s) I always thought I would. Because I have always assumed that I would write one book at least, someday. I just always thought it would come from whatever work I was doing. Since that wasn't happening, I thought I'd better just start writing, instead.

Once I allowed myself the time to just write whatever I wanted it didn't take long to realize that I had a novel I wanted to get out. And once I allowed myself that, all kinds of memories and ideas came pouring in. In October I even uncovered a cache of story ideas and beginnings from ten years ago, the last time I took a writing class, including one that was eerily like the novel I'd started three months before. I guess that idea decided I was still the right person for it.

Of course all this gives me permission to read more! And with that the realization that there were books I had not been allowing myself to read, out of wanting it too much, without knowing that was my thinking ("This is the sort of stuff I want to write, but I could never write that, so I'm not going to read it...") Funny how we work against ourselves, yes? So I'm enjoying reading novels again.

I do not think I would believe I could see a longer work of fiction through to its end if it were not for marathon training, and running in general.* For knowing the results of putting in daily effort, one step in front of the other. For learning how to build habits, outside of will power. For setting concrete long-term goals - goals that no one but I care about and no one but I am paying attention to - and seeing them come to fruition. It's exciting, and inspiring. Funny to think I can be an inspiration to myself.

With determination,
Annie

*I have written longer non-fiction works in the past, as well as short stories, though have not tried to see them to publication. Some time soon I want to look through that cache I found and see if I can do anything more with any of it.

What I've Been Up To (Part 3)

What I have been doing these last four months is writing. In fact, I've been working on a novel.

Back in June I decided it was time to start taking my writing more seriously, and I gave myself a year to write whatever, to figure out through writing what form I was most drawn to. (Some background: I have always thought I would write a book... someday.) I assumed that form would end up being nonfiction: essays, perhaps, or memoir. I was surprised to find out as I worked that I had a novel taking form. I've been working on it now since July.

I spent a number of months trying to figure out a writing routine: times of day, by hand or on the computer, that sort of thing. Not unlike trying to figure out a training routine! This wasn't easy with marathon training going on as well. Then at the beginning of November, with the marathon over, I decided to take part in a writing challenge, the National Novel Writing Month. Right from the start it was clear I wasn't going to be able to meet the word counts, but focusing on my writing for the month showed me what routines and methods will work for me.

I don't expect I'll finish this novel any time soon, so while I am letting people know that I'm working on it, I'm not giving out any details. I'm also developing some other projects, so I have something to turn to when I'm feeling stuck or disheartened at my slow pace on the book ("A month's work and it's in the wrong direction!" Yes, I did have that happen already.) Capturing ideas, taking notes, collecting scribbles. Saving newspaper clippings! All things I have always done but with no clear end in mind.

I'm having fun. It's not easy, of course - I can see why I haven't settled down to this before now. But I can't think of anything I'd rather be doing.

With great satisfaction,
Annie

A Funny Thing Happened On My Way Round The Park

... And now I can't remember what it was.

It's dark when I leave the house for my runs now, and on weekdays it's still dark when I return, though the sky has begun to lighten. I don't wear headphones at these times, and watch the sky to gauge how far into the park I can go. Can I run all the way in, by the river? (Only on weekends, when  I can leave the house later.) Can I run on the path that goes more or less parallel to the street? (Only if it's not overcast.) Much of time I content myself with staying on the sidewalk next to the park.

I remember now. When I run without headphones sometimes a song gets stuck in my head and that's what I hear for the duration of the run. Over and over, in an endless loop, just the bits of the song that I know. Yesterday: Mariah Carey's "All I Want for Christmas Is You." Except I don't even know the words, really, just bits and pieces of the music. Over and over for half a mile. It's a good thing I like the song.

Only a couple weeks more of shortening days. By the end of January I should be able to run along the river again. In the meantime I'll cross over the bridge and "settle" for the breathtaking view of the early morning sky reflecting off the river, with the dark trees on either side. I slow down and linger to take it all in.

Early morning blessings to you,
Annie

What I've Been Up To (After the Marathon) (Part I)

Baking. Lots and lots of baking. Within the last ten days...

Birthday cake for G's birthday party. Vanilla cake with vanilla frosting, covered with fresh blueberries and strawberries. Utter and complete hit with my guys. Me, I'm not wild about buttercream frosting, I may need to do more experimenting if I'm going to keep baking them cakes.

Cowboys Cookies for Monday Night Supper, to fulfill a pledge towards my Chicago Lights marathon fundraising. These are a favorite in our house: oatmeal cookies with pecans, coconut, and chocolate chips. I make some without chocolate chips for G, who's not fond of chocolate. Though he keeps trying it, bless his heart, since he doesn't like feeling left out.

I wasn't planning to bake again until Thanksgiving, but we all happened to be home on G's birthday, and he asked for cake. What? You just had cake! But that was for the party and now it was his birthday and he wanted cake (and we'd eaten nearly all of the first at the party). And it was early afternoon and I had nothing pressing to do and so I looked through my pantry and looked through my cookbooks, and I improvised a gingerbread cake with lemon glaze. The flavors were a little strong to start with, although G liked it just fine which was all that really mattered, but in subsequent days they mellowed and I think we may have a new holiday favorite. I've made a note for next time to be sure to bake it a day ahead of when I want it, to give the flavors a change to settle.

Then it was Thanksgiving and I made pumpkin pie. And we all enjoyed it, and then enjoyed having it for breakfast, and then again the next day. And then it was gone and we all felt we hadn't gotten enough pie, so on Saturday I made another one. Because, why not? And also, was I really going to make another pumpkin pie later this year, when there are now Christmas treats to be made? I didn't think so. Better to just make that pie now.

And then it was Sunday and I had a brownie recipe I wanted to try out (since I haven't found a completely satisfying plant-based one yet) and a colleague at work to bake for (another marathon pledge). That one, alas, was an epic fail. Well, maybe not epic - it tasted good enough - but it didn't hold together well enough to even consider presenting outside of the house. It will work very nicely at home for brownie sundaes at some point though, so I froze a portion of it and we'll nibble on some this week. And I didn't sacrifice really good chocolate or cocoa on it (just because I didn't have any of the fine stuff in the house) so I'm okay if we end up tossing whatever's left at the end of the week...

...Since clearly I'll be baking again next weekend. I've already made my schedule for December...

With sugar and spice and everything nice,
Annie

Snow What?

It was the first day of running on snow and ice today. I can't say I was thrilled about this as I got ready but once I got started I enjoyed myself.

Between the music I was listening to  and the intense focus on my footing, there wasn't any room in my head for thoughts of time, pace, or the like. Just noticing the sun on the snow and being grateful it wasn't colder.

I think the only way to approach running on Chicago sidewalks in the winter is to treat them as trail runs. You never know what kind of surface you'll be running on; it can switch from clear and dry to carefully packed down to icy knee-high caverns in the course of one block. It all depends on how the individual property owner maintains their stretch of sidewalk. So I step lightly and quickly and practice "monkey walk" when it looks icy (a technique I learned in kung fu years ago: keeping all joints slightly bent and sinking my center of gravity a bit lower).

And layer, layer, layer.

Carefully.
Annie