What I talk about when I talk about running, by Haruki Murakami (2007)

I read most of this during a sick day at home. It was short and written in a quite personable open style so it was quick to get through. Murakami here presents a series of thoughts, almost like essays, in a loosely connected book that roughly is presented chronologically. Murakami talks about his pre-writing life managing a bar and discusses his characteristics, notably making big jumps and ignoring the advice of others. He seems like a pretty determined and self-motivated person, driven by self-improvement rather than living a more conventional life which those around him may want.

He also talks about running, the importance of the personal challenge and his thinking about the sport. The practice for him seems to be a key routine, meditative, and especially as he is getting older, a way for him to face aging. He no longer can record personal best and is aware of his decaying body, but he pushes himself anyway. In this way he has to even step back from beating himself, and rather beating the moment. In running he has learnt to be more present whether he liked it or not.

He is pretty lucky that he lives the life of a successful author. He can run when he wants, travel where he wants and seemingly has no children, so doesn’t even deal with those responsibilities. His running and writing practices therefore can’t be shared by all readers. I did like reading about his perspectives though, not just the more philosophical ones but the seemingly mundane ones – how he thinks about equipment and training. It felt like reading a diary of sorts, and you don’t really get a chance to do that much these days.

I hope this book encourages me to be more self-motivated and independent. Murakami also took big risks, but in a way these were all considered, he waited and pounced on the right opportunities as they presented themselves, it doesn’t seem like he forced his way into anything – he certainly didn’t force himself to be a writer.

Like a runner, I guess we can all take this mindfulness practice into our own lives. Being present in the moment, but guided by a longer goal, and moving towards it, despite, or sometimes in partnership with pain. Murakami by pushing himself revealed to himself the true nature of pain and tolerances of the human body. I won’t say limits here, because even when hitting a wall he ran another race, reframed a goal, and even in his own interviews with other runners came to know that pain isn’t something that people can avoid, neither is laziness. We all just push through.