What Running Taught Me About Life

For runners and non-runners alike.

I’ve spent more of my life hating running than I have loving it. For a while, it seemed like nothing more than burning lungs, stinging calves, and a high potential for injuries. But since becoming a convert, it’s changed me more than almost anything else.

It’s not that running got easier the more I did it — although that is technically true — it’s that I came to see it differently.

Not only are there parallels between running and life, but what’s made running enjoyable can be applied to pretty much anything.

Here are the seven greatest lessons running has taught me.

1. Just begin.
A number of friends have asked how to get started running. It’s simple: just begin. Common running advice tells us there are practical steps we can take: get fitted for proper footwear, remember to stay hydrated, create a motivating playlist. All of that is great. But really, the most important part of creating a running practice — or any practice — is to take the first step.

Whether this is your first time out, a comeback after a hiatus, or the outset of training for a specific goal, the advice is the same: Start where you are.

This might mean you alternate running with walking, where walking makes up the majority of the time. This might mean you only walk, until your joints, tendons, and ligaments are ready for the stress of running. This totally counts.

As far as I see it, in the beginning, you have two real goals: 1) to be consistent, and 2) to not get injured. The best way to accomplish them is to go slow, listen to your body’s cues, and trust that you’re making progress.

Beginnings are wonderful because they come without expectations. They let us approach an experience with an open mind and fresh perspective. So don’t worry about speed or distance or performance — that will come. Let yourself be a beginner, soaking in how it feels to show up for yourself.

2. Your numbers do not define you.
I’ve come to believe that numbers are sort of evil. They allow us to easily quantify, judge, and compare. Whether we’re talking about running paces, Instagram likes, salaries, sales figures, or any metric under the sun, focusing on numbers can be a ticket to feeling bad, even when our lives contain plenty of reasons to feel good.

When you’re first starting out (but also maybe forever), do not put stock in your pace. Your value is in your effort, your actions, your motivations — not in your numbers.

In my group training program, we run according to RPE (rate of perceived effort). In essence, there’s a scale of 1 to 10, with 1 being almost effortless (like a leisurely stroll) and 10 being unsustainably hard (like an all-out sprint you could only hope to sustain for a matter of seconds). Depending on the workout that day, we might aim to run at a “4” or a “7.” It has nothing to do with pace or time and everything to do with feeling.

This makes sense, as we don’t exist in a vacuum. Pace (like all forms of performance) changes according to circumstance. A hot, humid run at high altitude will be harder than a crisp, cool run near the beach. Running on a weekend morning will be different than training after a full day of work. Even the world’s best coach or fanciest GPS watch cannot tell how you’re feeling at any given moment. Only you can do that.

If you’re attempting to break a record, trying to qualify for the Boston Marathon, or going for a personal best, then you’re probably acutely aware of your pace. But for many of us, ignoring the numbers can be a healthy choice.

3. Progress is not synonymous with suffering.
Back in the day, I would set off on a run and hoof it, which inevitably left me panting and discouraged. I tried to hold a steady pace, but I’d get nowhere, then write off the whole thing as “I guess I’m just not cut out for this.”

As it turns out, this is the most common running error. Even if you’re training for a race, the MAJORITY of your runs (~80%) should happen at a slow, easy pace, where “easy” is defined as the ability to hold a conversation while running. (Lest you think this is some beginner trick, even elite runners complete the majority of their training runs at a speed that is well below their target pace.)

There are multiple reasons for this, many of which take place on a cellular level, but the upshot is that slow running allows your body to up its fitness and endurance without overtaxing it. Though it seems counterintuitive, over time, running slow will make you faster. Last but not least, easy runs allow your mind and body to relax into them, so they become enjoyable, sustainable experiences you’d like to repeat.

4. Multiple goals mean more chances for success.
Marathoners are often told to go into a race with an A goal, a B goal, and a C goal. Maybe your A goal is to finish in a specific amount of time. If that doesn’t happen, your B goal might be to run the whole way without walking. And if that doesn’t happen, your C goal could be to cross the finish line — however you get there, in whatever time it takes.

Whatever your aims, having more than one goal is smart, because it allows you to create multiple game plans. It also allows you to shift gears if and when circumstances don’t go as you wish. There isn’t one path to fulfillment, nor is there one route to success. So why stop at just one goal?

For the longest time, my race goal was always “finish in one piece.” Aim high!

5. Comparison helps no one.
Anyone who’s ever set off to run in a park or other public space knows the feeling. You’re shuffling along, feeling pretty decent, when someone zooms by like a thoroughbred, with nary a bead of sweat on them. Suddenly, you’re hyper aware of the heaviness of your footsteps, your breathing loud in your ears.

You don’t know if the person speeding past you has been running for decades. Perhaps they just took off mere moments ago, which is why they’re so full of vigor. Or maybe they’re practicing intervals, finishing up their last big sprint before they stop to walk.

The point is, you can’t know. But even if you did, it doesn’t matter. We’re all running at our own pace, in our own time.

Instead of seeing other runners as a point of comparison, I try to frame them as a source of connection. I use runs as a chance to practice metta meditation. When I see someone struggling, I think, I send you love. When I see someone in their glory, I send you love. We all have good and bad days. Focus on the one you’re in.

6. Change is inevitable.
Years ago, I wrote a piece about being a bad runner — a designation I found liberating. It’s an honest account, and I stand by everything I said. But I no longer identify as a bad runner. I’m by no means the fastest. I don’t have perfect form. I have as many bad days as the next person. But I show up consistently, with love and respect for the sport, and over time, I’ve seen progress.

I have to work harder now to achieve things that felt easy in my twenties. But I’m more disciplined, with the benefit of deeper self-knowledge.

Bodies change. So do circumstances. Our speeds and abilities, tastes and preferences shift along with the landscape. The point of living is not to remain frozen in time. Sometimes, simply recognizing the stage you’re in, and doing what you can to meet it, is the definition of grace.

Another lesson? There is no such thing as a flattering race photo. But “huffing and puffing over the finish line” beats flattering any day.

7. Your reason is a good one.
They say a marathon is a metaphor for life. One foot in front of the other, pain is inevitable, it’s about the journey not the destination, we’re all in it together, run the mile you’re in… There are as many takeaways as you’re willing to see.

I suspect there are as many different motivations for running as there are runners. Some people love racing, others do not. Some love the social aspect of group running, while others prefer a solo, meditative approach. There are trail runners and road runners and ultramarathon runners. There are also those who hate running.

The biggest thing running has taught me is that until you try, everything can seem difficult or impossible. But if you give something a chance, and work at it, you may be amazed at what you can do.

Sometimes, trying new things can even lead to a shift in identity. A decade ago, I never would have considered myself strong, resilient, or powerful, but I have running to thank for that.

For me, the greatest realization that running offers is the one that happens over and over again. I’m a person — breathing and moving and doing my best. I’m alive.

Sometimes it’s the simplest things that hit just right.

Card of the Week

Here is this week’s card for the collective, as well as some thoughts to carry into the days ahead. As most modern readers will tell you, the tarot is not about fortunetelling, nor is it about neat, definitive answers. The cards are simply one path to reflection, a way of better knowing ourselves and others through universal themes. If this reading resonates with you, great! And if not, no worries. Take whatever may be helpful and leave the rest.

Featuring Le Tarot de L’étoile Cachée, illustrated by Elisa Seitzinger

In life, we are often sold a myth that we’ll feel better once we do something, have something, achieve something. If I had a million dollars I’d be happy. If I met the right person everything would fall into place.

Arrival fallacy tells us that is likely not the case. There will always be another thing to want, another level to scale, another outstanding item to accomplish.

The World is like the ensemble scene at the end of old Disney movies. The characters reunite for some joyous occasion — usually a wedding — and all is right with the world.

The last card of the Major Arcana, The World signifies an ending, a finale, a point of completion.

But does such a thing actually exist?

When we think of the even the biggest occasions in life — graduations, weddings, wrap parties, retirements, rites of passage — they are always followed by something else. The next chapter. The next level. A new beginning of another kind.

The World tells us that we’ve arrived. It doesn’t matter if this isn’t the destination you initially had in mind. Or if you still have your sights set on another. You have the right to feel good for this moment.

Wherever you are, The World says you have much to be proud of. (Honestly, after the last two years, we don’t even need The World to tell us that. We’ve all persevered in our own ways.) You’ve done it. You’ve made it. You’re here.

Now, the directive is simply to rest. The path here was not without its challenges. This card advises us that the best thing we can do — to rejuvenate, to celebrate, to prepare for the next adventure — is to take a break. A real break. For mind, body, and soul.

The World reminds us that the world is not linear. When this moment of respite is over, we’ll cycle back to the beginning of the deck, arriving at the first card — The Fool.

It’s not that endings are a myth so much as that they are synonymous with beginnings.

The starting line is as much a point of arrival as it is a finish line — marking the end of a training cycle and the beginning of a goal.

The finish line is as much a beginning as the starting line — marking the end of one goal and the beginning of another.

Or, in the immortal words of Semisonic, “every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end.”

So step back and take a deep breath.

A new beginning is around the corner. There is no better news. There is no better feeling. Tomorrow is a chance to start anew.

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