The running/life metaphor is always alive. Sometimes it is strong, sometimes barely noticeable, but it never goes away. You can say that for any endurance sport, for any sport in general–I think–where, in the end it’s you, alone, against yourself and all your limitations, physical, emotional and mental. It is not an easy condition to accept, we are “social animals” after all, but the effort, the fatigue, the suffering, the sweat are conditions we have to face alone. It is something we all have in common: from Kipchoge to those who have just given up the couch. It is us, our legs, our thoughts. I always say that running is a vacation time but, when I put on my shoes, get on my bike or get into the water, very often I close myself in a “bubble” where every external signal is muffled, every thought takes on a different form and gravity, in which – selfishly – I exist only, I rely only on my own strength as it should be, as it happens, every day, in life. Take and go. Whether it’s an easy workout, a leisure outing, the damn intervals, take it and go anyway. Because you know you’re going to create that bubble, and you decide what you’re going to put in it. It can be good music, a peaceful state of mind, the ecstasy of beauty, unsolvable thoughts, difficult choices or awareness of limits. Yes, because if running teaches anything, it is that we must make peace with our limitations. We can raise them, move them, rationalize them, ignore them but, they, they are always there. As in life. Others-from people who love us to strangers-when we are lucky can help us, give us support, create favorable conditions, but the legs are always our own. And they are our pure ones when, selfishly, we do not feel helped. Often simply because those around us are struggling more than we are. “Please wear your oxygen mask before helping other passengers,” they say on the plane before takeoff. Likewise, we cannot expect help when there are those who are locked in their bubble, in their “pain cave,” say the cyclists. The world does not revolve around us; we are the ones who have to move around and get to know it, visit it and experience it. And we do it with our legs, our toil, our sweat, our smiles, our loneliness. A positive loneliness, however, because it helps us understand that-as we are in our own race, with our own legs and our own difficulty-those around us also experience the same difficulties as we do. Different yet identical. It is up to us to understand when we need to reach out to help him, to make this journey in the world more enjoyable for everyone. Or when we have to preserve our own space, our own bubble, because — first and foremost — we have to overcome our own fatigue, put on our own oxygen mask, before helping other passengers. I know, I haven’t discovered anything new. But we cannot always talk about technique, intervals and performance. Because those are tools but the essence of running is something else: sometimes it is simple mindless “ignorance” and sometimes it is all about life. The fact remains that we are alone. And we have to deal with it. (Main image credits: lightpoet on DepositPhotos.com)
