I Keep Moving To Be Stable

Writing While Running

Thanks to Peter Gabriel for the title of this post which comes from “Sky Blue” off of the Up album. Best watched live with The Blind Boys of Alabama.

My most cogent, straightforward articulations of my spaghetti-twisted thoughts and feelings come when I'm least capable of writing them down and most susceptible to twisting an ankle.

Some people have shower thoughts, others have dish washing thoughts, still others have laundry thoughts. I have run thoughts. On runs, I successfully exorcise emotional demons and untangle perplexing life challenges only to find them  resurrect zombie-like almost as soon as I slow to a walk. 

A pre-run stretch. March 13, 2020. I frequently take running selfies - in motion or staged like this one - as reminders to future me that I actually do like running.

Recently, I've devised a way to capture those demons and their zombie kin for good. Just like reaching for a tissue in anticipation of a sneeze, when I'm out for a run and I feel a thought come on, I reach for my phone and press the mic.

Voice to text while running is clumsy and inherently dangerous. I fumble for my phone in my legging pocket and desperately search for the notes app. Meanwhile, because I’m still running, my phone toggles from vertical to horizontal view. I stubbornly refuse to slow down or come to a walk lest slowing down will expel all of the air out of my thought balloon.

On today's run, a series of thoughts began to coalesce into words and form a story, all fueled by a mixture of happiness and grief about my life this year compared to last year. This time last year I was not running. Instead, I was benched due to an inexplicable onset of heart palpitations. This time last year, I was living on my own, single parenting three boys. But now, my partner and I of five years are finally living together and life feels whole again. This time last year, I had all three of my kids under one roof. This year, I don’t. And, I haven’t yet come to terms with it all.

My pent-up feelings about this last point, an unresolved situation full of sadness, started to knock on the walls of my head, then again, persistently louder and then even louder as my run progressed to the point my breath tightened and a lump formed in my throat. It needed a way out and I was determined to help it escape and escape fast before I imploded. Fumbling for my phone, I breathed deeply so I could manage to talk while running. I pressed record and launched into my story.

I looked down at my phone, minutes later, satisfied to have expelled it all… and breathless. But, my satisfaction turned to surprise and then dismay. Only the first few words I dictated appeared on the screen. The rest of my monologue vanished with my breath. My notes app seemed to be tapping its fingers on the table, waiting impatiently for input not realizing I had just expressed a gallon of grief into its care.

I tried again, repeating the start of my story. It failed again. On the third try, which involved me holding the phone to my mouth, raising my voice and speaking sternly, my phone finally complied and letters then words began to appear. Strangely, this third time around, I felt both greater distance and connection to my thoughts and feelings.  

I slowed to a walk now that my words were down on virtual paper. As I approached a few broken and crumbling sections of sidewalk, I read it back out loud. My eyes passed over the words, abstracted symbols translated into meaning, taking back in that which I had expelled. I felt the impact of my own words anew and sensed a hint of resolution and relief.

In-motion shadow run selfie. A erfectly placed sewer manhole ready to accept my spaghetti-twisted thoughts.

Writing down what I think and how I feel, however tangled and twisted, is a peculiar act of self-care uniquely available to humans. Once the words are out of our heads and on a surface, separate and distinct from ourselves, we can interact with and manipulate them and hopefully understand them better. For me, while there isn't always resolution, I usually experience some degree of relief and almost always there is some new insight or way forward that is revealed.  

That is what I hope to do here with my Substack: whether composed while running, walking or sitting (that happens for me too!), I hope to write some stories and share some thoughts that offer resolution, relief, insight, and a new way forward. And, perhaps in doing so, others might be encouraged or inspired to wrangle and wrestle with and maybe even untangle their own spaghetti-twisted thoughts.