Stoking Love in Running & Life

While living through tyrannical times

This week’s post features a couple of shorter takes rather than an longer narrative. To be honest, I’m feeling depleted (in a good way!) from writing a piece for UltraRunning magazine, writing a difficult passage in my memoir, and doing community-related work that I touch on below. But I maintain a commitment to publish every Wednesday because I greatly value you, the subscribers, and the community of readers here. Cheers to you, and thank you for making time to read this newsletter with so much vying for your attention.

Falling back in love

Let’s talk love and relationships, given the Valentine’s Day hook. Not just with a partner, but with running.

As I wrote last week, I’m experiencing and cultivating a beginner’s mindset as I return to running after three months of injury rehab, and I love it! Running feels fresh and pressure-free.

A couple of days ago, I played around with speed intervals on the treadmill for the first time since the injury—a set of strides followed by a mere two five-minute fast-for-me pickups. I elevated my heart rate to the point where it was a struggle to speak more than a phrase, and radiated heat and sweat. I had placed a towel over the mph reading on the treadmill and used the up/down buttons to control speed so that I ran by feel, not worrying about how relatively slow the speed reading was. I did not criticize myself for doing only two intervals. I felt proud and good about the mini speed workout, given the injured state I had been in back in November.

Meanwhile, I tuned into the exciting and insanely fast Black Canyon 100K coverage last Saturday and watched records fall. Many of these same top ultrarunners recently made obligatory and somewhat cliched sponsorship announcements (ooh, an unboxing!) on their Instagrams professing the awesomeness of their sponsors’ products.

Observing the ongoing professionalization of this once low-key sport and the next-level performances, I felt stressed for those runners (because of the performance and promotional commitments they have to fulfill) even as I admired their courage to go pro and compete at that unforgiving level. My standard advice for racing ultras, “Run your own race, go your own pace,” now seems quaint and soft, because top-10 finishers in the most competitive races like Black Canyon have to go out hard and strive to hang with the leaders from the start.

But I didn’t feel envy; rather, I experienced gratitude to be an unexceptional mid-packer who runs just to run and meet my own goals.

Given the hyper focus and celebration by podcasters and other commentators of the elite-level runners, I feel compelled to state the obvious: You don’t have to be a sponsored top competitor to be an ultrarunner and love everything about ultras. Roughly 95 percent of the sport is made up of regular, less exceptional, unsponsored runners like you and me. And we’re probably having more fun and experiencing less stress. I predict that many if not most of those extraordinary podium-contenders are setting themselves up for burnout and injury.

Though I was never more than a medium-sized fish in a small pond competitively when I raced and sometimes won regional ultras, I experienced burnout from ultrarunning. I came upon a column I wrote for UltraRunning about it six years ago and will share an excerpt here:

Back in the mid-2000s, my running began to transition from hobby to profession and from marathoning to ultrarunning. Along the way, I began to concern myself with building a running résumé and credentials, networking with others in the sport, and analyzing performance metrics. I provided media coverage, coached professionally, and wrote a how-to book on trail running. My running became much more career-like than I ever could have imagined when I started jogging in grad school.

Lying in bed unable to sleep one night, I thought about running goals for the upcoming year and struggled with self-doubt and ambivalence, feeling like a nobody and a has-been. I felt like checking out from the whole scene and its community.

Meanwhile, as I tossed and turned that night, my husband slept soundly next to me. I reflected on how much he and I have been through together since he captured my heart at age 15—parenting, new business startups, house building, illness, and more. Perhaps most significantly, we recovered from a drawn-out rough patch and underwent several years of couples therapy to rekindle our intimacy and nurture a healthier relationship. We got over burnout for one another.

An epiphany struck: I needed a paradigm shift with regard to ultrarunning, a sport I wanted to fall in love with again. Instead of thinking about running as a career, I needed to think of it as a relationship. Careers lead to job changes and eventually retirement, but committed, healthy relationships endure for a lifetime.

For those looking to rekindle their love of running and to prioritize longevity in the sport, I offer a few nuggets of advice gleaned from marriage therapy:

Improve your individual self and become well-rounded: Don’t rely so heavily on your relationship to define your identity and satisfy your needs. Strong partnerships form between satisfied, healthy individuals. Try to be more than a runner by developing other facets of your life and by pursuing other interests to find happiness.

Embrace change and try new things: Both my husband and I felt stuck in a rut when we disconnected from one another. As a kind of radical extension of our counseling, we ditched our regular lives for a year. We rented out our home, raided our savings, broke the golden handcuffs of his job, pulled our kids out of school, and lived nomadically around the world on a budget while teaching our kids the equivalent of 3rd and 6th grades as we traveled. When we signed up for a mini triathlon in Australia and I faced the challenge of an open-water swim for the first time, I told myself, “Gotta try new things.” New challenges and new destinations helped make our marriage—and my running—feel fresh again. So did changing jobs and moving to a new state.

Make time for intimacy and stoke the passion: Any relationship that slips into a state of platonic autopilot becomes vulnerable to infidelity. If running similarly feels dull, then your heart may wander from the sport. Better running, like better sex, takes time, mindfulness, intention, and imagination. If you feel you need to run because you “should” or to post impressive stats and pics on Strava and Instagram, then the passion may be waning. Carve out time for special runs unplugged, be present in the moment, and run in a way that feels good without regard for “performance” or “training.”

Go for goals, but also, let yourself run for fun!

Kindling a spark with my husband of nearly 35 years (in this case, throwing a big bonfire party for friends and neighbors on new year’s eve).

Meanwhile, life goes on (a.k.a. what I’m doing to stay sane during crazy times)

My cheery tone above belies the fact that I’ve been struggling emotionally, as have many, due to the rapid-fire extreme changes and executive power grab unfolding in our country since the inauguration.

It’s no secret I’m a moderate Democrat and abhor the new president’s agenda and behavior. I’m one who seeks to build bridges with those of all political stripes, and to see the good in others, but I am truly frightened and see no good in our new leader’s intimidation and chaotic changes, and the deputization of an unelected capricious bazillionaire, who has been granted nearly unlimited power and big-brother access to private information, to gut rather than carefully trim essential agencies. It appears as if all the norms of civility, honesty, and good governance with checks and balances have been flipped in a matter of weeks.

When someone I know passed me on the sidewalk the other day and asked how I’m doing, I answered, “It’s hard to be happy these days,” and she said, “I know,” and we exchanged grim, worried expressions before walking our separate ways.

A few steps after our exchange, I thought, Fuck that! This is no way to live! I refuse to give up my happiness and optimism. I refuse to feel cowed. Those taking over power are counting on us to feel overwhelmed and powerless. I will be neither.

I’ve resolved to limit and compartmentalize my connection to the national news—to pace myself and avoid feelings of burnout and helplessness—but I am not “checking out.” I am just checking the news less frequently. I do not scroll X or BlueSky for political invective. I get news summaries but don’t spend nearly as much time as I used to reading full articles. I’d rather spend more time reading novels, which I’m doing.

However, I’m more involved in our community to do what I can. For example, last week I contacted my Republican congressman and our two senators to express my points of view, and I attended our county Democratic meetup and offered the chair some suggestions on outreach. I continue to support and advocate for public lands. I gathered info in Spanish about immigrant resources and legal rights and shared it with a Spanish-speaking woman from Mexico with whom I’m close, so that she could share it with her friends and family. She’s here legally on a work visa but drives in fear of being pulled over and interrogated, her papers always with her. I told her in my broken Spanish that I care about her, and she put her hands together in prayer at her lips as reply.

Mostly—for my mental health and to act locally—I’m connecting with others in the community. I’m feeling more motivated in my volunteer role as president of our local Rotary Club, and I’m excited to be planning an event (a hikeathon) that will raise funds for our club and for other nonprofits. Last week, I met a friend who works at a local bank to ask for sponsorship of the event. After we both exchanged words about how fucked-up the world and our leaders are, we turned our attention to the event (yes, she said, her bank will sponsor it!), and she told me she’s pregnant with her second child. Tears sprang to my eyes as I hugged and congratulated her.

Life goes on, I thought. And in-person meetings with hugs are so much better than email or texting.

I also gathered with three women last week for a special ice-climbing outing. One has a daughter and son-in-law doing vital humanitarian and diplomatic work in Djibouti (northeast Africa), and she described how their jobs and funding were suddenly frozen, putting them in limbo while upending lives. We commiserated and united in our recognition of injustice.

Finding a happy spot last week …

… and feeling fierce!

Then I did a longer run on the weekend with a couple of runner friends. We slowed to a walk to talk when one expressed a wave of stress and sadness. We need each other, I thought. Friendships, kindness, and solidarity will get us through tough times.

I mentioned before in a post, I highly recommend this film now on Netflix, Join or Die, “a film about why you should join a club … and why the fate of America depends on it” (so reads the tagline). Find a book club, a run club, a drop-in game night, or even a Rotary club to meet up with others. Invite others over to watch Join or Die with you, and maybe make a dinner party out of it.

Put yourself out there to fight the epidemic of loneliness and the feeling of powerlessness.

Post-run shot with Jackie and Christina

Take care, and please share your thoughts and feedback in the comments below.

Our next monthly online meetup for paid subscribers takes place Tuesday, February 18, at 5pm Mountain.