Author Love Note: Murakami's "What I Talk About When I Talk About Running"
A calm reflection on a life-changing commitment
I promised you an Author Love Note soon, and while I was initially going to write to another author, my experience with Murakami last weekend changed my mind.
I'm used to living in cities--New York, LA, Amsterdam for a stint, Lisbon--and now I live in the middle of nowhere. It used to be easy to find things to do and people to do them with. A beer? I'll run downstairs to the bar underneath my apartment and within twenty minutes a few friends will join me. A dance class? There are almost too many studios and times to choose from! A massage? No problem, you can find a cheap, no-frills option just around the corner, or an ultimate luxury experience a few blocks away. But now there's none of that. There's not one single business, cafe, restaurant, or bar that's within easy walking distance of where we live.
Of course, there's a giant lawn with a sweeping view of old vineyards, there's a garden, there's a million stars illuminating a non-light polluted sky, and there's peacefulness. And, importantly, there are endless roads and paths to run on. I started running years ago when I lived in New York. At the time, it felt like everyone was running a marathon and I could barely run two miles without stopping. I hate when lots of people can do something I can't, so I decided to train for a marathon. That training was the first time I realized that with repeated practice, focus, and discipline, you could achieve anything. The only thing required is putting in the work. And I've always loved how simple running is. You can do it anywhere, all you need is something moderately comfortable and a pair of running shoes. It's a great way to explore new cities and to stay in shape on vacation.
But after being dragged down by a strangely COVID-like virus and then a stomach bug, I'd lost my stride. And, like I mentioned in my last note, I was in a funk. My partner was planning to spend last Saturday at a winery with a group of guys, and I thought I'd take myself into Porto to get a quick hit of the city energy I sometimes miss. Thankfully, at the last minute, a very good friend who knows me all too well pointed out that there was a Six Senses in the Douro Valley, just an hour from me and on the way to my boyfriend's winery. While the room prices were outrageous, the spa options were reasonable. I called that same day and booked myself a treatment.
Knowing I'd have several hours on the property (I was at the whim of my partner's schedule at the winery) I brought three books (I know, I know). One of them was Haruki Murakami's What I Talk About When I Talk About Running. I was gifted the book years ago by someone I've known professionally and personally for ages and have already read it twice. As I sat on the sun-soaked terrace of the Six Senses wine bar and sipped on a glass of Portuguese rosé and devoured a burger, I opened the book again for the third time. I'm so glad I did.
Here’s my love note:
Dear Haruki,
Thank you for stepping outside of your more famously known writing style to write this important book. Most of the time, I'm in the mood to be swept away by a novel but I had an instinct last weekend to take What I Talk About When I Talk About Running with me to a solo spa day. I was coming out of a stressful period, one teetering on burnout, and I hadn't been running much. When I first moved to our new house I was running at least half the days of the week, but in the last month or so my beloved Nikes have gone unused.
That was until I started reading your words. The way you describe running, specifically long-distance running and the discipline and steadfastness it requires, ignited a spark of inspiration. Funnily enough, you don't write like a motivational speaker. I don't think you wrote this book to get people psyched to wake up at 7am and become a Whole New Person due to your espousement of a routine running practice, but that's the effect this book had on me. Because I admire your career and what you've accomplished, I implicitly trust you to give me good advice. If you're telling me that you've been long-distance training for almost 25 years (and you wrote this book ages ago) and that you've run a marathon every single year for all of those years, and have even done an ultramarathon and a few triathlons and you're the writer that you are...well, consider me sold.
You bring a peacefulness to the intensity of marathon training, acting almost nonplussed about your running. The way you described the bouncy, fast, smiling girls running past you in Boston and you knowing that those girls weren't serious runners like you brought me some strange sense of satisfaction. I guess it reminded me that you don't have to be the fastest, or the happiest, or the most energetic. You just have to do the thing, over and over again, and soon enough the thing becomes part of you.
Because of this book, I restarted my running routine. I, too, am now running six days a week. I'm running the total mileage of a marathon each week. And I feel better than I have in a long time. I've got more energy, I feel like I've earned the rest of my day, and I have more mental clarity. Pretty remarkable how one really well-written book can prompt a complete 180.
Thank you for sharing your story through this book. I really needed it last weekend, and I'll probably need it again in a few years.
Amy