I just finished reading Born to Run, by Christopher McDougall. His story is about discovery -- initially of a small tribe in Mexico, the Tarahumara, whose running ability is legendary. They run 50 or 75 miles on rocky, hilly, treacherous terrain, and then do it again the next day. They suffer none of the injuries that plague the typical American runner. In sharp contrast to the regularly injured athletes of the Western world and the millions of joggers dealing with chronic pain, the Tarahumara seem "born to run".
As the author interacts with them and other ultra-runners, he learns that that privilege is not unique to the Tarahumara. Their experiences, along with the research and findings of some of the world's top coaches and some very intelligent scientists, paint a broader picture. Running is part of who we are as human beings. We are built for it, we thrive on it. Not just for a few fleeting years of youth, but as a way of life.
It took me about a week to finish the book. Each chapter is sprinkled with vignettes of individuals who began running, to connect with nature, or as a way to meditate, or out of simple curiosity. They ran and ran and ran some more, until they were running 100, 200, 300 miles at a time. These stories are too inspiring to take in all at once while sitting on a couch, so I found myself out running between chapters, thinking over what I'd read and feeling out the possibilities.
As a young college student, I would get up at 0451 hrs. and go on a 75-minute run to start the day, summer or winter, rain or snow. I had learned to run bare-foot, and my new low-impact running form gave me reprieve from the shin-splints and stress fractures I had endured in High School. But I didn't see a lot of other people doing the same thing, and perhaps the not-too-distant memories of my High School injuries tempered my inclination to run more. I was afraid to push past where I was, and eventually the static nature of my daily runs left me feeling unsatisfied, and I quit running.
Well, now I'm running again. It's been a few years, so I'm starting from just a little above zero. This time, I won't listen to anyone who tells me that the human foot was not designed to run (as my podiatrist did in High School), or that I'll pay for my habit later in life with knee, hip, and ankle problems. I'll listen to my body, and together we'll decide how far I can go.
I love running, and now I've shed the fear and limitations I've been laboring under my whole life. It's a new day.
As the author interacts with them and other ultra-runners, he learns that that privilege is not unique to the Tarahumara. Their experiences, along with the research and findings of some of the world's top coaches and some very intelligent scientists, paint a broader picture. Running is part of who we are as human beings. We are built for it, we thrive on it. Not just for a few fleeting years of youth, but as a way of life.
It took me about a week to finish the book. Each chapter is sprinkled with vignettes of individuals who began running, to connect with nature, or as a way to meditate, or out of simple curiosity. They ran and ran and ran some more, until they were running 100, 200, 300 miles at a time. These stories are too inspiring to take in all at once while sitting on a couch, so I found myself out running between chapters, thinking over what I'd read and feeling out the possibilities.
As a young college student, I would get up at 0451 hrs. and go on a 75-minute run to start the day, summer or winter, rain or snow. I had learned to run bare-foot, and my new low-impact running form gave me reprieve from the shin-splints and stress fractures I had endured in High School. But I didn't see a lot of other people doing the same thing, and perhaps the not-too-distant memories of my High School injuries tempered my inclination to run more. I was afraid to push past where I was, and eventually the static nature of my daily runs left me feeling unsatisfied, and I quit running.
Well, now I'm running again. It's been a few years, so I'm starting from just a little above zero. This time, I won't listen to anyone who tells me that the human foot was not designed to run (as my podiatrist did in High School), or that I'll pay for my habit later in life with knee, hip, and ankle problems. I'll listen to my body, and together we'll decide how far I can go.
I love running, and now I've shed the fear and limitations I've been laboring under my whole life. It's a new day.
