Read Online What I Talk About When I Talk About Running by Haruki Murakami - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Haruki Murakami
Tags: Fiction
Ads: Link
of gas. But after I finish and some time has passed, I forget all the pain and misery and am already planning how I can run an even better time in the next race. The funny thing is, no matter how much experience I have under my belt, no matter how old I get, it’s all just a repeat of what came before.
I think certain types of processes don’t allow for any variation. If you have to be part of that process, all you can do is transform—or perhaps distort—yourself through that persistent repetition, and make that process a part of your own personality.
Whew!
Four
SEPTEMBER 19, 2005 • TOKYO
Most of What I Know About Writing Fiction I Learned by Running Every Day
O n September 10 I bid farewell to Kauai and returned to Japan for a two-week stay. Now I’m commuting by car between my office studio in Tokyo and my home in Kanagawa Prefecture. I still keep up my running, but since I haven’t been back in Japan for a while there’s lots of work waiting to keep me busy, and people to meet. And I have to take care of each and every job. I can’t run as freely as I did in August. Instead, when I can grab some free time, I’m trying to run long distances. Since I’ve been back, I’ve run thirteen miles twice, and nineteen miles once. So I’ve been able, barely, to keep up my quota of averaging six miles per day.
I’ve also been intentionally training on hills. Near my house is a nice series of slopes with an elevation change equivalent to about a five- or six-story building, and on one run I rounded this loop twenty-one times. This took me an hour and forty-five minutes. It was a terribly muggy day, and it wore me out. The New York City Marathon is a generally flat course, but it goes over seven bridges, most of which are suspension bridges, so the middle sections slope up. I’ve run the NYC Marathon three times now, and those gradual ups and downs always get my legs more than I expect.
The final leg of this marathon is in Central Park, and right after the park entrance there are some sharp changes in elevation that always slow me down. When I’m out for a morning jog in Central Park, they’re just gentle slopes that never give me any trouble, but in the final leg of the marathon, they’re like a wall standing there in front of the runner. They mercilessly wrest away from you the last drop of energy you’ve been saving up.
The finish line’s close
, I always tell myself, but by this time I’m running on sheer willpower, and the finish line doesn’t seem to get any closer. I’m thirsty, but my stomach doesn’t want any more water. This is the point where my legs start to scream.
I’m pretty good at running up slopes, and usually I like a course that has slopes since that’s where I can pass other runners. But when it comes to the slopes in Central Park, I’m totally beat. This time I want to enjoy, relatively, the last couple of miles, give them all I’ve got, and break the tape with a smile on my face. That’s one of my goals this time around.
The total amount of running I’m doing might be going down, but at least I’m following one of my basic rules for training: I never take two days off in a row. Muscles are like work animals that are quick on the uptake. If you carefully increase the load, step by step, they learn to take it. As long as you explain your expectations to them by actually showing them examples of the amount of work they have to endure, your muscles will comply and gradually get stronger. It doesn’t happen overnight, of course. But as long as you take your time and do it in stages, they won’t complain—aside from the occasional long face—and they’ll very patiently and obediently grow stronger. Through repetition you input into your muscles the message that this is how much work they have to perform. Our muscles are very conscientious. As long as we observe the correct procedure, they won’t complain.
If, however, the load halts for a few days, the muscles
I think certain types of processes don’t allow for any variation. If you have to be part of that process, all you can do is transform—or perhaps distort—yourself through that persistent repetition, and make that process a part of your own personality.
Whew!
Four
SEPTEMBER 19, 2005 • TOKYO
Most of What I Know About Writing Fiction I Learned by Running Every Day
O n September 10 I bid farewell to Kauai and returned to Japan for a two-week stay. Now I’m commuting by car between my office studio in Tokyo and my home in Kanagawa Prefecture. I still keep up my running, but since I haven’t been back in Japan for a while there’s lots of work waiting to keep me busy, and people to meet. And I have to take care of each and every job. I can’t run as freely as I did in August. Instead, when I can grab some free time, I’m trying to run long distances. Since I’ve been back, I’ve run thirteen miles twice, and nineteen miles once. So I’ve been able, barely, to keep up my quota of averaging six miles per day.
I’ve also been intentionally training on hills. Near my house is a nice series of slopes with an elevation change equivalent to about a five- or six-story building, and on one run I rounded this loop twenty-one times. This took me an hour and forty-five minutes. It was a terribly muggy day, and it wore me out. The New York City Marathon is a generally flat course, but it goes over seven bridges, most of which are suspension bridges, so the middle sections slope up. I’ve run the NYC Marathon three times now, and those gradual ups and downs always get my legs more than I expect.
The final leg of this marathon is in Central Park, and right after the park entrance there are some sharp changes in elevation that always slow me down. When I’m out for a morning jog in Central Park, they’re just gentle slopes that never give me any trouble, but in the final leg of the marathon, they’re like a wall standing there in front of the runner. They mercilessly wrest away from you the last drop of energy you’ve been saving up.
The finish line’s close
, I always tell myself, but by this time I’m running on sheer willpower, and the finish line doesn’t seem to get any closer. I’m thirsty, but my stomach doesn’t want any more water. This is the point where my legs start to scream.
I’m pretty good at running up slopes, and usually I like a course that has slopes since that’s where I can pass other runners. But when it comes to the slopes in Central Park, I’m totally beat. This time I want to enjoy, relatively, the last couple of miles, give them all I’ve got, and break the tape with a smile on my face. That’s one of my goals this time around.
The total amount of running I’m doing might be going down, but at least I’m following one of my basic rules for training: I never take two days off in a row. Muscles are like work animals that are quick on the uptake. If you carefully increase the load, step by step, they learn to take it. As long as you explain your expectations to them by actually showing them examples of the amount of work they have to endure, your muscles will comply and gradually get stronger. It doesn’t happen overnight, of course. But as long as you take your time and do it in stages, they won’t complain—aside from the occasional long face—and they’ll very patiently and obediently grow stronger. Through repetition you input into your muscles the message that this is how much work they have to perform. Our muscles are very conscientious. As long as we observe the correct procedure, they won’t complain.
If, however, the load halts for a few days, the muscles
Similar Books
