Wednesday, December 16, 2009


Today, I was trying to explain to someone why I don't listen to music when I run. I could've explained it better, but somehow, it touched a part of my mind that I was a little afraid to share. Not because of the nature of the things I was going to share, just the closeness, the fear I wouldn't be understood. But...I want to share this. Why I run, not just to exercise, not just to lose my belly fat.
When I run...that is when I reunite with myself. I can think my thoughts...not the thoughts of BYU, or of the Provo dating scene, or the music program, or my apartment. I can think my thoughts, about love, religion, God, beauty, truth...or snow, quail, crunchy leaves, old houses, hair and wind. Whatever thoughts I want to think about, day-to-day or eternal, trivial or significant, they are my thoughts. I leave my life behind and surrender to a continual motion, a motion going nowhere particular, but taking me everywhere.
When I run, I reconnect with my body. I feel my heart beat and remember that I have a heart. I feel my lungs expand and contract and thank the Lord for giving me lungs. My muscles' ache reminds me of their presence, and my usually-awkward limbs feel long, strong, and noble. If I'm lucky, I get to that point where "every step is a struggle, but every breath a blessing" and I learn that my body, mind and soul working together can conquer.
Perhaps for some runners, music helps them achieve this state. Maybe it's a focusing mechanism. However, I think most use music as a distraction from the pain, the tedium. But that is to distract myself from the very purpose of the activity. I have music in all parts of my life--in all of my classes, on the way to and from school, while i do my homework, while i do the dishes. Music is my life. And running is a break from my life, from my music, where I can just be me in rare, blessed silence; in still, endless motion.


  1. I understand the fear of not being understood. I see the inner musing of man as a form of art. Regardless of what kinds of art it is, the artist still has some reason to hesitate before sharing his art with the world. What if it goes unappreciated? What if the world doesn't understand it's true meaning? This is an excerpt from a post I blogged about it. Here's a url:

  2. Mmm....I like it. That pretty well sums up why I have a hard time sharing my thoughts. And what I'm trying to overcome with this blog. And why I get so frustrated when people comment on my posts and completely miss the point of what I was trying to say. And it makes me happy that, this time, someone understood. =) love you, Whitters.