Learning to Write by Becoming a Runner

The shift was subtle. I had just finished my sports massage appointment and was paying at the front desk with Monique. We were chatting about my progress on my leg muscles, and she showed me three stretches for my calves. Then she nodded knowingly. “It is typical for runners to have tight calves,” she said.
A couple of days later, I dropped into my friend’s favorite yoga class, and the instructor asked if I wanted to focus on or avoid any areas of my body. After I explained that I was training for a race and had just finished some leg work via sports massage, there was that knowing nod again when she said, “Yoga can be great cross-training for runners.”
Twice! Twice, different experts of the body and movement 1) referred to that elusive identity of “runners” and 2) lumped me in with them! The casual descriptor shocked me. Me? A runner?
I am not one to cavalierly take on identity markers. Part of this is out of respect in a not yet post-Rachel Dolezal world. But it’s also out of a lack of achievement. Although I’ve been running off and on for over ten years, I had always considered my mile time (certainly not sub-10) to be too slow for a real runner. And while there is certainly a camp of people who hold to that school of thought, according to Facebook, I’ve recently had a change of heart around what it takes to be A Runner, as opposed to someone who runs.
I’ve recently had a change of heart around what it takes to be A Runner, as opposed to someone who runs.
It inevitably reminds me of my journey of claiming the identities of “writer” and “artist.” Ever since I was a kid, I wanted to be a writer. I started a journal as soon as I could put sentences together. My second grade teacher told me, “I just know I’m going to see your novel on the bookshelves someday.” As a teenager, I prolifically blogged angsty confessional prose. I read my eyes into the ground. Meanwhile, other artistic expressions spilled out of me in tendrils and waves. To varying degrees of commitment and success, I dabbled in sketching, sewing, knitting, violin, piano, guitar, singing, and photography. In spite of all this, I have long shied away from calling myself A Writer or An Artist, as opposed to someone who writes or who makes art.
The part of me that wants to be A Writer is intensely curious about the moment when I became A Runner. That moment took me by surprise. It wasn’t when I bought my fitness tracker or when I was gifted a premium account on my running app. It wasn’t when a friend encouraged me, “Sign up for this seven mile race. You can do it!” and I actually signed up. It happened when I modified a training plan for my race and wrote it into my monthly calendar. I had found a beginner’s training plan that took a person from running 1–2 miles to completing 7 miles, all in eight weeks. I felt like I’d struck gold. I knew I could comfortably run 3–4 miles, so I internalized the basic pattern of the training plan and made my own version, starting at my current level, gradually ramping up the miles, and molding the plan to realistically fit the pattern of my life. And so far, I’ve faithfully completed almost half of my plan!
That’s when I realized: for me, becoming A Runner was about intentionality and discipline. Each day of eight weeks of this summer has been assigned a training purpose; work and social life are secondary to the training plan. (For those who are curious, the training plan follows a combination of base mileage, stretch mileage, hills, intervals, cross-training, and rest over each week.) If running is taking up this much space in my brain (intentionality), and I’m dedicating this much willpower to running (discipline), then hell yeah, I’m a runner!
That’s when I realized: for me, becoming A Runner was about intentionality and discipline.
All of my other behaviors now easily affirm my new sense of identity. Of course I used Prime Day to buy a reflective vest, because I’m a runner! Of course I spent an evening watching YouTube videos about form and cadence, because I’m a runner! Of course I’m going to get fitted at my local running shoe store, because I’m a runner! But prior to the training plan, without that intentionality and discipline, all of those behaviors felt random and disjointed to me.
Perhaps the most important lesson I’ve learned from running is that the plan needs to make sense to me and for me. I need to understand the logic behind the pattern of the plan. And that pattern needs to be somewhat realistic for what I have going on in a given day or week. For example, if I have an event on Tuesday evening, when I would normally run, then my option to run is Tuesday morning. But if I have a late night conference call on Monday night that will leave me tired Tuesday morning, do I realistically have enough minutes in the day to run? Maybe not, so maybe Tuesday should be my rest day. This type of planning requires me to take stock of my week and move around activities to better match the training days I have scheduled.
What lessons, if any, can be applied to becoming A Writer?
Like running, the world of writing has its own snobs too. For some, only those who are paid to write and who write a certain word count per day are Writers. And maybe the rest of the world agrees with them. But running has lent me clarity around what I personally need to feel comfortable calling myself a writer. I need a training plan!
I haven’t figured out yet what a training plan looks like for writing (so far, I’ve only found work plans for completing a writing project, like a novel), but I have some hunches. Just like in my running plan, there should be variety: some days that are devoted to distance (word count? long essays?), some devoted to speed (poetry? timed writing exercises?), and some devoted to cross-training (practicing a musical instrument? going on a photo walk?). There should be at least one rest day. There should be clear, regular milestones such as a weekly increase in mileage or a race at the end of the training plan (a weekly Medium post?).
If you have had luck with writing plans, I’d love to hear about it and what made it successful for you. Are my suspicions correct? Let me know in the comments! Meanwhile, happy running and happy writing.
