No Rest For The Weary

Running is a blessing. Running is a curse.

It is no coincidence that my views on running are repeatedly manifested in the collections of my running brand Willpower. Just as I share with you here in a brutally honest way what running does to me, I also want Willpower to speak the same blunt language.

The latest design from Willpower is called "No Rest For The Weary" and is available as an exclusive pre-order until Saturday, July 6th.

The promotional text for this collection goes like this:

Running is a blessing. Running is a curse. We are both obsessed and redeemed. Our hunger is endless, as is our zeal. Our limits come and go. We are driven, searching, restless, and yet we know where we belong. And that is exactly here.

I'm not here to sell T-shirts (although I won't stop you from buying one). Instead, I want to go deeper into the thoughts and feelings of the "No Rest For The Weary" theme in relation to running.

It all started when…

I can still remember the moment when running really got to me for the first time. It was when I crossed the finish line of my first 10K almost 11 years ago. I will never forget the feeling of relief, the energy I had just unleashed, and my vibrating body.

But what struck me most was the fusion of Suffering and Joy – from here on in capital letters. By that, I don't mean "having to suffer in order to experience joy afterward", but rather the actual simultaneity. Suffering itself became Joy. This fusion could not be undone. Nor could the reversal: Joy became Suffering.

My life as a runner has been marked by these two polarities ever since.

The Joy

I don't mean the Joy you feel when you're having a good time with friends. Or when you get a nice gift from a loved one. I also don't mean that "fist in the air" moment when you cross the finish line. Okay, maybe a little bit. It's a unique situation that we all deal with differently anyway (note to self: good topic for another Das Z Letter).

By Joy, I mean something deeper. A feeling of fulfillment. Of purpose. Like when you put the last piece of a puzzle in place, or when you get a long-sought brilliant idea. Taken only 10,000 times. This Joy comes from a higher plane, from Hallowed Ground. The complete erasing of all negative thoughts and emotions. A ray of light from the heart. Just for a moment. But that moment is all that matters.

The Suffering

I find this a difficult word. The first associations are almost always negative. Anger, loss, fatigue, pain, sadness, disappointment. The Suffering I am talking about is all of that, but in a protected and therefore limited context: running.

Suffering in running can manifest itself in an infinite number of ways. Literally, in the form of physical pain or a setback. But also in a figurative sense, such as not being able to run, tormenting ambition, self-doubt, or overly high, unfulfilled expectations.

And even though we don't wish any of this on ourselves, this form of Suffering is the basis and the mirror for all the Joy that running gives us. Inseparable, fused into one.

The Joy and Suffering of the Runner

The pursuit of Joy and Suffering drives us. We wander restlessly, seeking not only both, but both together. The fusion. The simultaneity.

Running delivers. But we don't make the rules of the game, running does. Running determines whether we experience fulfillment or rejection. If we feel Joy and Suffering. Or only Suffering. Sometimes just Joy. But often neither.

Over the years, running grows in us to become much more than an activity. It is the cup that will not pass us by and will always want to be filled. Yet, it is also the glass that is always half full and half empty.

“Desire is hunger, is the fire I breathe. Love is a banquet on which we feed.”
(Patti Smith, Because the night)

No Rest For The Weary

Sometimes we are tired. Sometimes we are weak. Sometimes we are listless. And yet, we are magically drawn to running and these two polarities: They Joy. The Suffering. We cannot escape them. This bond will last forever. For better or for worse. Through Joy and Suffering.

Everything Not Running

I bought a new bike. She's black, she's fast, and she goes by the name of Jabarut. To keep the suspense at an unbearable level, I won't give any more details today, but will focus on what Jabarut does for me and with me.

For the first time since I learned to ride a bike 137 years ago, it feels like a sport to me, not just a means of transportation. Cycling gives me a sense of power and purpose. When I pedal hard, my heart rate goes up. When I pedal consistently, I can keep my heart rate at a certain level. On my bike computer (Hello, my name is Levelhead) I can see values that I understand and with which I can track my progress.

On a meta-level, it feels as though I have regained control over my sporting life. Self-efficacy is perhaps the most appropriate word.

I haven't yet taken this hurdle in the area of strength training, which is urgently necessary due to my injury. I'm still doing that to get it done. But I can imagine that I will soon experience a certain degree of self-efficacy in this area as well. And no, I don't think I have to buy a weight bench for that.