Member-only story
The First Step in Going for a Run Is Putting on Your Clothes
But this isn’t a column about running, it’s about writing
Some years back, I decided I wanted to run a marathon. I had just started running and could squeak out two or three miles at best. I’m not sure what made me think I could ratchet that up to twenty-six miles, but I was determined. I bought new shoes and a book that promised to get me across the finish line.
I always enjoyed running, but I mostly enjoyed having run — that is, I loved being done with a run and knowing I had done it. I was less enthusiastic when I anticipated a run. Every time I’d think about running, I inevitably thought about the moment a few minutes after I started, before I’d caught my second wind, when my breath was ragged; my muscles throbbed; my body rattled and creaked and stumbled. Ugh. I often was so preoccupied being miserable thinking about the run that I would think myself right out of it. I wished I could just fast-forward past the first seven minutes of the run. This is not an arbitrary number; I knew I usually settled in comfortably as I came close to finishing the first mile. But to get to the eighth minute, I somehow had to get through the first seven.
This state of mind wasn’t going to work if I hoped to run a marathon, so I tried to figure out how to trick myself…
