Things I think about when I’m running

February 24th 2023



Earlier this year, as I plodded along the rain-soaked pavement in the January dawn, ignoring the familiar stab of a shin splint in my right leg, I realised that I’d forgotten to bring my AirPods and I hadn’t even noticed. On a usual day full of meetings, chatting, and podcasts mumbling away in the background I’m pretty used to the ever-present sound of others talking. I only ever really have that ‘oh’ moment of silence late at night, shortly after chucking my phone on my bedside table and settling into the silence of a dark bedroom.

At that moment on my run, I realised that I, for once, was completely alone with my thoughts. Something that I struggle so hard with on a daily basis — the preference to play a YouTube video while I eat my porridge in the morning or play a Spotify playlist as I shower — was suddenly gone.

I have heard somebody say that while running, you’ll be more alone with your thoughts than ever. Even with the music blaring through your headphones and the buzz of the city around you, the voice inside your head that you try to ignore daily will make an appearance. It will weasel into your mind, starting conversations with yourself that you never thought you’d have. You will notice more things about your surroundings, the way your breath sounds as your shoes hit the pavement, the heartbeat in your ears. You’ll nod to other runners as they pass you in a kind of super-secret acknowledgement and suck in the cold winter air in a way that feels euphoric.

I’ve never felt more aware of myself than when I’ve been running. You are the only obstacle in your way, your biggest cheerleader and you’ll be fighting with your brain to continue your journey the whole way. Although I am early on in my running journey, the feeling of a runner’s high is something that deserves all the hype it gets. I carry myself along the path because I do it for myself. Any insecurities about my body, my mind or my ability to do the hard things vanish.

There are runs that suck. I’ve run in the pouring rain with no music, on my period with horrendous cramps, I’ve felt so slow that I’m basically walking. I argue with myself all the time, compromising with one more kilometre, then just one more, then an overpriced coffee at the end of the run, I promise myself.

I show up for myself, something that I haven’t felt comfortable doing in a while and something that proves to me that I can, in fact, do it. I’ve signed up for a half marathon, something that terrifies yet excites me in a way that I’ve never experienced in my life. Running is something that’s hard and I’ll be proving myself all the way, on every euphoric high and devastating low. My body will hurt, and I will push myself too far but will always understand why I’m doing this — and continue along the road for as long as I can.