Running Helped Me Find My Way Home
I didn’t want my run to end.
Easing my pace, I veered off the paved path and pushed past waist-high weeds so I could run along the park’s perimeter fence. I shuffled my feet, knowing I soon would have to head to Heathrow and board my flight home. The depth of my inertia and wistfulness surprised me. As I prepared to return to California after a month-long stay in London, why did it feel like I was leaving home?
I’ve always been a homebody. My home is my refuge, the one place where I can remove my armor and simply be. The pandemic proved I could hunker down and still thrive; all I needed was food, shelter, and my family. Oh…and running, of course — my house marked the start and end of each run, a comforting constant no matter the quantity and quality of steps in between. Fittingly, outside of several extended stays overseas, I’ve lived my entire life within a 30-mile radius.
My home’s foundation, however, has been shifting — and not because I live near a seismic fault. Two years ago, our firstborn left for college. This month, our second, too, will bid adieu, leaving behind just my wife and me. My recent retirement has further prompted me to rethink my notion of home; work, with its outsized influence, no longer defines the spheres of my life. With one child in LA and the other soon in New York, my wife and I are free to triangulate a new position in this world, a simultaneously exciting and daunting prospect.
So off we went to London this summer, intent on exploring the idea of living there for part of the year. We chose to spend two weeks apiece in two parts of the city — a form of neighborhood speed dating, if you will. We wanted to learn which attributes would resonate with us the most: the diversity of the residents, proximity to public transit and amenities, the overall vibe, among others. Ultimately, we wanted to know: did we feel at home?
By design, the neighborhoods we chose were distinct and different. Bermondsey, south of Tower Bridge, was youthful, full of artisan shops, and gritty in parts. Kensington, on the other hand, with its stately parks and museums, was posher and overflowing with tourists. In both cases, we needed time to absorb everything and gain our bearings. Recovery from recent eye surgery required me to walk for the first week of our trip. But once I returned to running, I soon was able to plant my feet on solid ground.
Finding community through running
Despite my deep introversion, I’ve increasingly discovered joy in running with others, especially post-pandemic. With organized donut runs, long runs, and trail runs on my calendar, I rarely have to run — or feel — alone. Being new and community-less in London, I was grateful that a running friend had recently relocated there and was available to join me in exploring the city’s pathways.
On July 4 (which, understandably, the British did not celebrate), we joined the London City Runners for an evening run. The club was the real deal: it operated its own pub! After being greeted by a friendly organizer, we ran a 6-mile loop around the Thames with two dozen others. Along the way we bumped into another group, the Midnight Runners, congregating on the South Bank; it was clear that runners in this city have many options. Back at the pub, we dried off from the rain and celebrated America’s independence with a pint.
We also participated in a parkrun, one of hundreds of free 5Ks held each Saturday across the UK. The one-time online registration was super-easy to complete. I was impressed that our particular race, located at compact Finsbury Park, attracted more than 500 participants of all ages, shapes, and paces. A volunteer welcomed us first-timers and explained parkrun basics (I lost out to an Australian as to who had traveled the farthest). At the finish, I simply had my barcode scanned, ensuring my results were recorded in the nationwide database. I saw how these parkruns could quickly become addictive, both as a timed challenge and a social activity.
In a matter of weeks, I already felt like a member of London’s robust running community. I’ve always found runners to be a friendly sort, free of airs and quick to invite newcomers into the fold. It was heart-warming to confirm this was a global phenomenon.
Finding routine through running
I love exploring new locales through running, as I did in Paris the week between our stays in London. But with most such visits, I rarely have enough reps to build a repertoire of familiar routes. At home, I loop the same lake on a nearly daily basis; I intimately know every landmark, sidewalk crack, and curve of the path, including a figure-eight loop of which I am the proud Local Legend on Strava.
Our extended time in London allowed me to get over my initial awe and put effort into refining my routine. In Kensington in particular, I took advantage of my proximity to the royal park, where I ran daily and familiarized myself with the 4-mile perimeter course. I soon added variations to increase mileage, including a side loop around the Round Pond and a path that cut across the park. I viewed the process akin to ironing a bedsheet: identifying and removing creases, resulting in a smooth, detailed mental map of the park.
It was in Kensington Gardens (and adjacent Hyde Park) where I had my final run in London. Only a thousand feet away from our doorstep, the park felt like an extension of our flat. Running there had been part of my daily routine and saying goodbye felt like a loss.
Finding nourishment through running
Originally just a form of physical exercise for me, running has evolved into a vital source of energy and mental strength — my lifeblood. While I have much to be thankful for, anxieties have persisted during this period of transition, reflective of the uncertainty and many changes in my life. Running has continued to offer a means to process my feelings, gain clarity, and translate ideas into action. At home, I often stop mid-run during my lake loop to sit near the shore, collecting my thoughts as ducks swim by.
During our trip, we discovered many differences between the US and the UK, though most were subtle. It was like we were living in a real-life “spot the differences” puzzle, but we felt the variations before we could pinpoint them. From England’s temperamental weather, to everything being smaller at the grocery store, to the quirks of centuries-old buildings, adjusting to life in London took mental energy. While we truly loved all that the city had to offer, many times we still felt like foreigners.
Fortunately, on my runs, my battery fully recharged as it did at home. The wondrous feeling of moving through space was the same for me despite the change in location and time zone. In Kensington Gardens, I came across a bronze sculpture of a man on horseback, looking far beyond the horizon. According to the Royal Parks, George Frederick Watts, the sculptor of Physical Energy, called it “a symbol of that restless physical impulse to seek the still unachieved in the domain of material things.” Appropriately, I found that running filled me with such physical energy, each footstep propelling me toward new possibilities.
In California, I live in my grandparents’ former house. I would often visit there as a child for family gatherings; the walls hold extensive memories. It’s no surprise I find solace in this space, where I can let down my guard, relax, and if need be, escape from the world. It’s truly my home.
Our trip to London, however, inspired me to emerge from my cocoon and test out my new wings. While we didn’t finalize our decision on future plans, we’re likely to return. Running convinced me that I could extend beyond my 30-mile-radius comfort zone and still flourish. It also taught me that my home is more than just a physical place; my home is a mindset, a source of confidence that I can tackle anything coming my way.
This summer I learned running is what brings me home.
Originally published at https://fiscalfitnessguru.com.
