Runners are mad. I spent most of my adult life believing this. People step out of their houses. They run. And then they stop.
Madness.
My wife started running when I was 36. She pulled me into the sport and I discovered that my assessment was correct—runners are mad. But it's a wonderful kind of madness.
Runners run in the dark. In the rain. In the snow. They run until common sense and every muscle screams at them to stop. And then they run some more. They run barefoot. They run up mountains. They race ten miles when the only things waiting for them at the end are sweaty clothes and some chocolate milk.
Writers are also mad. They write deep into the night. On short lunch breaks. They jot down notes on the bus. They talk to themselves. They endure endless amounts of criticism and rejection. They write for years when the only thing waiting for them at the end are a million words—most of them unread by the world.
Madness.
I ran the Top of Utah Half Marathon last year. I trained all summer. I paid $100 for shoes, and another $50 for the privilege of entering the race. At the end of the 13 miles I got a key chain. I didn't care. I wasn't running for the prize at the end.
I've spent four years on a manuscript. I don't know where it's going to end up. I might get a contract. I might get nothing. But I didn't write it for the prize at the end.
Runners are mad. Writers are mad. But it's a delicious madness.
I love a good midnight run. Or a thorough sloshing through the rain. I will never forget a midnight run through the streets of Logan during a thunderstorm. These events remind me that I am alive. They remind me of what I can do.
I love when my characters surprise me. When the words flow, and I feel like I'm creating another world. When somebody reads a line that I wrote, and bursts into laughter. I will never forget the time a stranger approached me and told me of the time he had to pull his car to the side of the road because he couldn't see through the tears of laughter as he listened to my book.
Runners are mad. Writers are mad.
And that is why I run. And that is why I write.
8 comments:
I'm proud of you! For running, writing,and posting. :)
I'm mad for this post. :D
Great post. I know I feel mad most of the time. Perhaps I should take up running...
i used to run and i agree with you, it is madness....a madness i miss greatly. writing is the same, when the words are flowing and when they aren't!
I can't wait for Almost Super to be published. The two chapter tease isn't enough.
I've always tried to put my finger on the connection between running and writing, but still haven't quite nailed it. I do know that the closest feeling I've had to finishing a marathon is finishing a novel. After enjoying the accomplishment for a few minutes, the only thing I want to do is start working on another one!
I never thought of it like that before, but you are absolutely right!
Amen!
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