Running and Writing
I’ve been running for almost exactly a year now. I never thought I’d write that sentence, I assure you. I always thought that people who ran must have a secret. I had tried running a few times, and I was panting after just a few seconds. A friend told me about the Couch to 5k program, and I liked it. In those first few weeks, I’d get on my gear, lace up my shoes and focus my entire being on running. The prompts helped me build up stamina and learn to focus my breathing.
For a long time I used the program when I ran, even after I’d hit the 5k goal. I had headphones in and music to help keep me going. Then one day in the spring, long after I’d mastered the 5k, and when I was wrestling with a difficult dialog scene, I took off for my run sans music. I didn’t want any words or sounds in my head; I needed to get past this dialog problem.
As my arms and legs did their thing, my mind sorted through the dialog and when my run was over I felt like I had a good flow for the scene.
I rarely run to music anymore because I cherish the quiet time when my mind can simply be. My running has helped me work through plot points, figure out motivations, dialog, and clues. I’ll start the run thinking, “Why does X care about Y?” and by the end of the run — well I’m not going to say I always know the answer. In fact sometimes I’m done with the run and now my question is “Who the heck is Y anyway? What’s he doing in my story?”
And sometimes, I start my run with the best intentions of working out some writerly concern, and instead I spend 30 minutes trying to get The Go-Gos out of my head. “We got the beat; we GOT the beat!” Yeah. I got it.
Most writers don’t have enough time to write. Writing is our second job, our hobby, our secret indulgence, and so I’m thankful that I can stay healthy and use the quiet space to work on my craft. It’s a gift I didn’t expect the first time I pulled on my running shoes and took off, and it’s a gift I won’t take for granted.
Our Hen House
Compassionate Cook