By Christopher Cudworth

For those who run…

My career in running started before the whole running boom even got going. When asked to run 12 minutes in a 7^th grade fitness test, I ran two miles. Something real and earnest took hold inside me that day.

What draws you to the sport of running?

By the time I was a freshman in high school in 1971, running drew me in new ways. That first long workout in the August sun flushed out feelings that ran deeper than anything I’d ever felt. All that hyper energy had a home. It flowed out of me with every step. When the running was completed, a calm flowed back into me that assuaged worry and gave me perspective on all my harried thoughts.

It’s gonna be okay, my body told me. It’s gonna be good, my mind responded.

So I ran some more.

Competition

Competition drew even more emotions from my soul. I loved running against other runners. Loved trying to win. When I did win, the memories of the hard work it took to get there were affirmation that putting effort into something you care about can pay off.

When I didn’t win, it was a reminder that there are always people out there who are better on you. On any given day, you can be beaten even if you are the best. That’s an important life lesson, and running drew it more clearly than any other activity.

As I drew close to the finish line in some races, pain was another reminder that humility is a good companion for all those who strive to do their best. College teammates formulated a saying to help us all through the pain. “The pain is temporary,” we whispered to each other in huddles before the race. “Run through it.”

Perhaps there are people who cannot conceive the benefits of learning these lessons. Of knowing that much of the pain in life is, indeed, temporary. They look at runners on the streets and in races wondering why they put themselves through agony. And then claim that it is a joy.

And those who ride…

Whether alone or in groups, cyclists all ride on a thin rim of rubber and an eye on the road ahead.

It goes the same for those of us who ride. People see our “getups” and grimace at that cyclist hunched over the handlebars. Many cannot conceive of the comforts we feel in pedaling our hearts out. Cycling is, of course, a world to itself on wheels. We live in a bubble of air and tool along on a rim of rubber. When we’re standing still in our lycra and helmet and shades, we don’t look or feel natural. Our cleats point our toes in the air. We are ungainly as loons on the ground. But when we fly, it is heaven on wheels.

And for those drawn to pain…

For all the glory of movement, we are also drawn to the pain.

That is because all joy requires some form of agony. It may be quiet suffering or determined persistence. But if you have ever been to a funeral and seen the sorrow transform into joy over the memory and life of the deceased, you know that all of human life is defined by transcendence.

Running is a tool of that process. So is riding. Some days it is literally like being born again. Those first moments out the door may “suck,” to use colloquial parlance. But the return on investment as the body adapts to the struggle and feels good in motion is what draws so many who run and ride to the task.

Sure, there is narcissism involved.  We draw on our narcissistic instincts every time we pass a long window and check our form in the reflection. We draw remarks with our narcissistic posts on social media and mark it in journals. We draw criticism. Scorn, Curiosity. But sometimes envy. “I don’t know how you do it.”

Our effort. Our accomplishments. They are all we are. That’s how we do it.

A long time ago we used to discuss the “Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner.”And cyclists spent their days on claptrap machines with sprouting wires and skinny frames.

Nether of those things is true anymore. That reality has been replaced by a community of people that understands it is okay to be alone, and to ride on the roads with eyes straight ahead.

You draw upon that inspiration of the road ahead every time you head out the door.

Even when the weather is a little sketchy.