Running Through The Fog

Running has always been therapeutic for me. The simple act of lacing up my shoes and heading out the door to put one foot in front of the other for a certain time or distance has literally saved my sanity and pulled me through some very dark times.  If you run regularly, you know what I mean. At its essence a good run (even a bad one) is moving meditation.  Solutions to problems long considered, often come in a flash of insight. I find that I can work out seemingly intransigent problems with a clarity of thought that is impossible to attain while sitting at a desk and staring into a computer screen.  I also find my thought processes slow down, as though I were engaged in seated Zen meditation.  This in turn, allows me to lower my anxiety levels and gain perspective on things. I have run through grief, and sadness, good times and bad, year in and year out, for over two decades. It is the thread that runs through my life and ties everything together.  I’m not a fast runner, I don’t take much pleasure in competition (well, a little pleasure), but I’d have a hard time going more than a couple of days without it.

Maybe something about the sheer physicality of the act of running helps clear the mind of all of that internal and external chatter. The “monkey-mind” as they call it in Buddhism. I don’t know how it works, but work it does. 

I’ve posted about the therapeutic benefits of running before on my other running blog. I usually don’t think too much about it; it just seems like a given. Still, the tragedy in Connecticut on Friday has resulted in some pretty somber runs through grey late-fall skies here on Long Island. Almost six years ago I experienced the unexpected death of my spouse, so I have some idea of what it’s like to be blindsided by fate.  I learned then, as those parents are learning in a heartwrenchingly  real way now, that despite our best efforts, we can never protect our loved ones from the unknown or the unexpected. Life is too random and the future is wholly unpredictable.  I think that the best we can do in the face of such uncertainty is live like every minute is the last minute.  Don’t sweat the small stuff.  You never know what is going to happen tomorrow and you can’t do anything about it anyway,  but we sure as heck know what’s happening right now. Being present in each moment and really listening to each other is so important. Everything else is just running through the fog.