Mr. Mortality on the run

Speaking of the rare good weather one day last weekend, my niece Lindsey commented over the phone that “you don’t even want to talk about it.”  Her implication may be that if we bring something to our full attention it somehow ruins its pleasure.

One thing in this life we mostly don't want to talk about: We know that each day, each run, brings us closer to the final finish line.  Our measuring of effort, our fanaticism about long-distance training is a race against time and mortality. Not an original thought, of course, but we’re just talking here.

One reason running is a great metaphor for the human condition is because of  its routine finiteness. We put a clock to our efforts for a reason. The faster we finish a race or run, the more time there is left for the next run.

But “not talking about it” is a one way, maybe the best way, we address our limited run in this life, isn’t it? Forget about time. Run like an animal—in the moment, no memory and no mind for the future.

A favorite famous quote is one that bears on the matter: “You don’t quit running because you get old, you get old because you quit running.”

The idea has become a motto for me, because there are always good reasons, some sensible, to quit running—long distance running, at least.  Right now, for me, it’s chronic knee pain, but it could always have been something—plantar fasciitis, IT band issues, a close call with a car, and such.

There is another thought, too—that our deeper interpretations of running can be something that helps others. “The best that can come from contemplation of mortality, perhaps, is a kind of wisdom that can give others strength—not by answering questions, like those best-sellers which claims to tell you what happens after you see the white light, but by asking questions honestly,” writes Adam Kirsch in The New Yorker  of  the book “My Bright Abyss,” by Christian Wiman.

The tai chi teacher, Dr. Paul Lam, talks about how the martial arts are something you can practice all your life, that he has 90-year-olds still studying with him.  I like that idea—that there are pursuits in this life we can take to the end. I hope running is one. But I really don’t want to talk about it.