This winter and spring, I didn’t do much regular blog posting. I lost a lot of readers, I was running less, and I began to feel like I’d said everything I really wanted to say about running. I missed the creative outlet, and writing, but I felt like I’d lost my muse and perhaps it was time to move on.
Then I went for a long run, by myself, with no music.
My mind wandered. I thought about running. I thought about our upcoming vacation, and meal planning, and packing. I thought about the scenery. I thought about EVERYTHING. Then I thought about nothing but the view for a while. Then I continued to process things I’d been thinking about half an hour earlier.
And I realized that this was the first time in months that I’d had an hour and half of uninterrupted time to think. I wasn’t bored, because I was running, I wasn’t distracted by the need to accomplish something, like I would have been at home, because my only job was to put one foot in front of the other.
Blog posts were practically writing themselves. Things to pack were flitting in and out of my mind and organizing themselves for later.
I was thinking clearly and freely and without obligation to think, or pressure to think, and it was beautiful.
When I run with music, I zone out, I listen to the lyrics, I fantasize about jet-setting and dancing on tables in clubs in Monaco while Kanye West blares in the background… my thoughts and daydreams aren’t completely void, but they’re heavily influenced, and they’re few and far between.
Sometimes the music is nice. Sometimes you want to escape your thoughts. Sometimes the cheerful sound of the Beatles helps me relax and make it through those extra miles, and keeps the road interesting.
But shutting it off and having uninterrupted time to think can be a precious gift. I don’t fiddle with the volume, or stop to change playlists or skip songs. I don’t feel annoyed because the beat of the song is poorly matched to the beat of my stride, or there’s a disconnect between my mood and the lyrics, or the noise is destroying the peacefulness of the morning, or my ability to concentrate on making it up that next hill without a break.
A long run in the early morning was the perfect time for me to run in silence. It was amazing what that extended amount of time to think could accomplish. If I’d been on a shorter run, my thoughts wouldn’t have had time to circle back to earlier themes and make additional progress. At one point, I actually stopped and typed some key words into the notepad on my phone. Just a few words was enough to trigger my memory later of all the things I’d worked out in my head on that run… and the results have been flowing into my blog (and our family life) over the past week. Amazing.
If I’d tried to sit in the hammock and think, I would have spent the entire time thinking about what I SHOULD be doing inside, instead. Since I believe that running is one of the things I should absolutely be doing, I felt peaceful taking that time, by myself, alone with my thoughts on that run. I can’t think of another time and place where I would be able to think more freely, guilt free, and clearly.
Take some time to unplug.
It’s worth it.
Interesting take. frankly, I’m afraid to “turn it off” because what I hear will be what sounds to me like very heavy feet and labored breathing which then sets in an almost panic mode – like I’m not going to make it, I can’t do it, etc. However, as you have pointed out lately I have spent a lot of time changing up the songs for all the reasons you listed and not even knowing my mood. Maybe I’ll try a “quiet” run in the near future. . .
I ran my first half marathon last month in Ottawa without music and not by choice. While standing in the corral with 13000 other runners waiting for the start I turned on my Walkman, got the low battery beep and panicked. How way I going to get through 21.1k without any music?!? Turns out it was the best thing that happened to me because I was able to focus on what was going on around me and REALLY enjoy the race atmosphere without the distraction of music. Now I can get through any long run without it (although I bring it with me just in case I need the distraction) and enjoy our Island views even more.
I’ve never run a half marathon with one – so many races discourage them, and I really enjoy being in tune with my surroundings. I’ve gotten out of the habit of ever running with music, and sometimes I think I’d enjoy mixing it up and throwing something on for my shorter runs. I used to love audio books, too.