Running and Human Nature

The fact that I enjoy running surprises me to the point that I have become rather philosophical about it. How is it that I have gone all these years without running?  Why did I despise running when I was younger (and more able to do it)?  Is there something in human genetics that predisposes us to being lovers of running?  Are humans supposed to run long distances?  Fast? Why are some people so much better at it than others.

I have done some googling  on human endurance running and most results refer back to the studies done by Dr. Dan Lieberman, a Harvard anthropologist. He states that humans are built for long distance running. Our butts, our necks, even the shape of our heads, are all results of genetic selection for being better at running than walking or climbing trees.

Apparently, toe length is also very important to being a good distance runner. Short toes are better for running than longer toes, and this makes me happy.

All of these physiological adaptations are nice to know, but I've determined I'm more interested in the psychological drive to run. I think this too has something to do with our hominid ancestors.

I think that I run because it's as close to  meditation as I have ever gotten.  I allow thoughts to pass through my mind, but I don't dwell on any one thing. I think I will look into making my runs more meditative. I am sure others have done it and the deep breathing of meditation has to be good for running. I have some investigation to do.

A Good Run

This morning's run was one I won't soon forget. There is really nothing special about the run. Nothing exciting happened. I didn't see any new or unusual animals. No bats attacked me from overhead, and there were no creepy stalker people watching me. 

It was simply a delightful run in so many ways. The temperature was perfect. Just cool enough to require a thin long-sleeved shirt. The air was crisp, but not too sharp.There was little humidity, so I could breathe easily, without thought.  The sunrise wasn't particularly beautiful,
just a simple golden line tracing the treetops and fading into deep cobalt in the cloudless but star-filled sky.

I ran with a quick, short step. My legs felt light. I could barely feel their weight at all.  It was as if I was floating. 

My proprioception was off a bit. I felt that my head was heavier than usual, and my neck and shoulders were stiffening under the weight. I tried to relax and loosen up. My breathing was perfect, unnoticeable. No strain whatsoever, yet I felt I was quick.

I was gliding above the pavement. No bouncing, no heavy thump, thump of my feet hitting the ground.  I was smooth, light, and quick. It's rare to be all of those things on one run.