Talking about running with one who knows

I've been waiting all day to share this. I'm in the midst of a new favorite book: Haruki Murakami's What I Talk About When I Talk About Running. A novelist and long-distance runner, Murakami writes less about how to run and more about how to live life. Nearing 60 and with 30+ years of running under his belt, the man has my ear. His writing puts voice to what I've tried for so long to explain to those who don't understand my strange (dare I say insane?) desire to run.

Consider this excerpt, for example: "I'm the kind of person who likes to be by myself. To put a finer point on it, I'm the type of person who doesn't find it painful to be alone. I find spending an hour or two every day running alone, not speaking to anyone...to be neither difficult nor boring."

And this: "When I'm running I don't have to talk to anybody and don't have to listen to anybody. All I need to do is gaze at the scenery passing by. This is the part of my day I can't do without."

For Murakami, and for me, running is almost zen-like. "No matter how mundane some action might appear," he writes, "keep at it long enough and it becomes a contemplative, even meditative act."

The world got you down? Try this: "When I'm criticized unjustly, or when someone I'm sure will understand me doesn't, I go running for a little longer than usual. By running longer it's like I can physically exhaust that portion of my discontent. It also makes me realize how weak I am, how limited my abilities are. I become aware, physically, of these low points."

Murakami seems to speak directly to me, or through me. He is wise, this man. Then again, perhaps he was destined to write as he was to run. After all, he writes, "People basically become runners because they're meant to."

A wise man, indeed.

Happy reading, and happy running.