The Writerly Battle of Marathon

When you train for your first marathon it’s a wild sprint into the unknown. You truly have no idea how attainable the goal is or how you might get there — much like sitting down to write. Somehow, if you just maintain your focus it happens.  Yes, this is the part where we mention Haruki Murakami. Because we can’t quite put into words the value of writing and running, we’ll let him do it. In his 2008 book with the Raymond Carver spinoff title “What I Talk About When I Talk About Running” Murkami says, “To give up running would be like giving up writing, which would be like giving up living.”

Runners are crazy people. They complete races like The Siberian Ice Marathon and run so hard they get blisters on top of blisters. They have to listen to their own banal thoughts for hours and oh Christ, that can get as lonely as the solitary act of writing. The New York Times review of Murakami’s book laments “that long-haul running is not just a metaphor for the loneliness of the long-distance novelist; it’s pretty well synonymous with it.” This review was written by a self-proclaimed non-runner. But, after comparing other sports, the reviewer eventually realizes that running, in fact, is the most inextricably sport linked to writing:

I seem to have developed a fondness for approaching great writers via the road less traveled. I read John Cheever’s “Journals” before his stories and novels. I got around to Joseph Brodsky’s poems, in “A Part of Speech,” only after reading “Watermark,” his short book on Venice. Martin Amis? I started off with the bits of journalism in “The Moronic Inferno” and then moved on to “Money.” And now I commence my reading of Haruki Murakami, not with “The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle” or “Norwegian Wood” but with this little book about running. I’m guessing that the potential readership for “What I Talk About When I Talk About Running” is 70 percent Murakami nuts, 10 percent running enthusiasts and an overlapping 20 percent who will be on the brink of orgasm before they’ve even sprinted to the cash register. And then there’s me, the zero-percenter: a non-running Murakami virgin. Oh well. The supreme test of nonfiction is that it be interesting irrespective of the reader’s indifference to the subject under discussion, and a great writer’s work is obviously beflecked with greatness whatever the occasion. So the terms of the test are clear.

Murakami has attributed his successful writing to his running regiment. He recommends running to writers who just can’t seem to get enough alone time. So if you need even MORE time to critique your writing, Murakami assures, “It does not require anybody to do it with, and so I found the sport perfectly fits me as a person who tends to be independent and individualistic.”

Okay, our teeth already itch.

Not only does Murakami churn out “top notch novels,” but he also runs ten fucking miles a day. Not to mention he’s run the Boston Marathon SIX times. (FYI: you have to qualify with an under four hour finish time to run the Boston Marathon). Here’s more from Runner’s World:

Before I became a writer, I was running a jazz bar in the center of Tokyo, which means that I worked in filthy air all the time late into the night. I was very excited when I started making a living out of my writing, and I decided, “I will live in nothing but an absolutely healthy way.” Getting up at 5 a.m. every morning, doing some work first, then going off running. It was very refreshing for me.

In the spirit of encouraging writers to take up running for the health of their writing and/or losing their minds, we suggest 26.2 Marathon Stories.

Why?

Because as writers we love a good read. We also think the history of running is rad. Here’s more:

Hundreds of powerful images by such renowned photographers as Helmut Newton and Susan Meiselas, along with personal reminiscences from many well-known marathoners, capture the endless hours of practice and the overwhelming rush of emotion at crossing the finish line. Examining the marathon through the lenses of history, philosophy, sociology, athletics, pop culture, fashion, and science, the book salutes the determination and courage of those who willingly push themselves to test their personal best.

As Emil Zatopek once said, “If you want to run, run a mile. If you want to experience another life, run a marathon.” Well, that starting point might be too ambitious. To help you train, why not try writing poems with 26.2 lines. Just think, crafting .2 of a line might just be the start that reshapes poetry.

– Lori Huskey

Video: Emil Zatopek Running