Words have great power. Especially when they are your own words, stories, and affirmations. You can use them to guide, invigorate, and inspire your running.
When Joan Benoit Samuelson was young, she didn’t have to think much about why she ran. Benoit dreamed about winning the Boston Marathon and taking aim at the Olympics. So she hurtled down the road in search of her highest potential, and scored victories at both Boston and the Olympics.
Three decades later, Joan was slower but still hungry for challenges. She needed a new source of inspiration, so she began telling personal “stories,” her own term, to keep herself on track. This represented quite a change for her—normally a quiet and private person. She seemed to realize that the stories would elevate her efforts.
In 2008 she decided to chase the 2:50 marathon barrier at age fifty. At that year’s Olympic Trials, she finished far behind the young stars, but got a bigger hand than even the winners when she flashed across the finish line in 2:49:08. Mission accomplished.
Two years later, she concocted a different tale for her race at the Chicago Marathon. Twenty-five years after her victory there in 1985, she wanted to run within 25 minutes of her earlier time (2:21:25). Twenty-five years, 25 minutes. Perfect symmetry.
This time Joan missed her goal by a little more than a minute. She finished in 2:47:50. Yet she could hardly be disappointed. Her time established a still-standing marathon world record for fifty-three-year-old women.
Joan obviously has a penchant for creating stories built around the passage of time and her own race times. Other stories don’t have to be as competitive as Joan’s. You could, for example, run a half marathon in the year after the birth of each of your children. These would represent important landmarks in your life even without trophies or gold medals.
For many years I ran the Boston Marathon on the fifth-year anniversary of my victory in 1968. I was planning to maintain that routine by running Boston in 2013 and 2018. After the finish line bombing of 2013, I decided, like so many others, that I needed to return in 2014. That gave me two in a row, at which point I figured I might as well keep going through 2018.
Outside Boston and my annual Thanksgiving Day race in Manchester, Connecticut (fifty-five straight and counting), I like to keep things simpler and a more vague. I prefer some wiggle room. So most of my stories start something like this: “Every run is a new adventure, and every mile is a gift.”
Keep a training log: Keeping a runner’s log or journal is the most basic way to write your story. Even if you record only distances and times, that’s a beginning. A log forces you to think about the details of your running, and from those details many stories and observations will emerge. The great running cardiologist, thinker, and book author George Sheehan, MD, once scanned his journal and noted, “I have met my hero, and he is me.”
I know that sounds a bit egotistic. When I first read this Sheehan sentence 40 years ago, I had no use for it. I believed in humility above all else. Now I have softened in this view. We should all attempt an appropriately heroic life and recognize ourselves for our grit, determination, and successes.
Collect running quotes: I don’t know of any group that enjoys inspirational quotes more than runners. I think this is because running is pure and simple, but also demands rigorous effort. Great quotes help us rise to the occasion. Keep a collection nearby for ready reference.
Quotes are easy to find in various sources, and I’ll let you collect your own. Here’s my personal favorite, from poet Robert Lloyd: “Talk to me not of time and place; I own I’m happy in the chase.”
Write a runner’s credo: The best way to bring together your running stories and life philosophy is to write what I call a “runner’s credo.” A credo captures your essential beliefs and attitudes about a topic. It provides a foundation for all you will encounter—the good and the bad.
Some runners can condense their credo into a sentence or two. Some need a full paragraph. On the following page I’ve provided a longer one that I wrote recently. I’m not suggesting it will work for you. I’m simply offering it as a template. You should edit, condense, and add to it as befits your beliefs and personality. Hint: a little humor goes a long way.
Once you’ve written your runner’s credo, put it somewhere in easy reach. On the fridge or beside your bed, perhaps. You’ll want to refer to it often. It will steer your behavior in a positive direction.
I am a runner. I don’t run every day, but most days. I rest when I’m injured, when my children are born, when I attend my stepdaughter’s college graduation, or when I attend my father’s funeral. A day or two later, I run again. I run because it feels good, and keeps me mentally and physically sharp.
Some days I enter races. I like to challenge myself, and to join the social throng. But I don’t define myself by the Olympics, the Boston Marathon, or my 5K PR. I defy all labels: I am runner, jogger, man, woman, young, old.
I am guided by my principles, commitments, persistence, discipline, and resilience. I set the bar high but don’t obsess over outcomes. When I am knocked down, I get up.
I run with family and friends because they enhance my life. I run alone for quiet time and to clarify my thoughts. I embrace clean air, clean water, healthy soil, and simple foods. Earth is my home.
After a certain age, I will get slower. No matter. A stopwatch cannot measure the quality of my life or the reasons I run. I will adjust and train smart. Running is my playtime and my therapy. I run in sun, rain, wind, and snow—through all the seasons of the year, and all the seasons of life.