What I Talk About When I Talk About Running

I went in with high expectations for this book. Running has been a massive part of my life since I was 8 years old, and getting to hear new perspectives on running was all I was expecting from this book.

Unfortunately, this book reads like a mid-level runner giving us a stream of consciousness about running; some of what’s shared being accurate, and some not. He shares many theories as to why and how certain things work - mainly based on hunches. Some hunches are correct, and some not.

I’m going to choose to ignore the frustrating number of hunches the author utilizes in place of science, and instead focus on the philosophy and emotional aspects of this book. (Which are the only somewhat redeeming parts of it)

Even in this realm, I really struggled to connect with the author with the exception of a few pages. A huge part of his passion for running seems to stem from pushing his body to extreme (arguably unhealthy) limits. This is not at all how I see running. I see running as a beautiful art form, one that can be relaxed. Simple. Effortless. Smooth. And healthy.

When I run, it’s about tranquility, connecting with myself, and connecting with my environment. The author ties running to the concept of a “void” almost as if he sees it as an avoidance coping mechanism. Perhaps I read too deeply between the lines, but I just didn’t find the author’s relationship with running to be one that I share. I’m happy he loves running and it provides him this value, but it’s just not something I can relate to.

The author also seems incredibly judgemental, particularly when it comes to the “fast girls” he sees near the college campus, college athletes who are running faster than him. He has the nerve to imply they are inexperienced long distance athletes, and they probably are unable of slowing down and running as far as he can.

What?

How does he know that? And why does it matter? It’s just such a weird thing to include in this book. Not only is he comparing himself to a different sex, but his assumptions regarding their physical fitness and training are likely strongly incorrect.

I have a few more minor complaints with this book, but to summarize my issues so I can move on with my life: - I didn’t connect with the author - I felt the author was spreading a lot of misinformation regarding technical details of training - I wasn’t a huge fan of the author’s outlook on running - I wasn’t a huge fan of the author’s outlook on the world - I wasn’t a huge fan of the writing style - I felt the book provided almost no value to myself. It’s a memoir, and a memoir about someone I’m just not really that interested in - neither their personality nor their running 🤷

I’m sure some people out there would love this book, but I’m sorry - it was a painful one for me.

I run in order to acquire a void.

I don't run, but I subscribe to the "fun" scale and, for better or worse, experience it on hikes or outdoor adventures. This book definitely illustrates Type 2 fun: Miserable while it's happening, but fun in retrospect. It usually begins with the best intentions, and then things get carried away.

All I do is keep on running in my own cozy, homemade void, my own nostalgic silence. And this is a pretty wonderful thing. No matter what anybody else says.

This book was quick but incredibly entertaining and surprisingly relatable, even for someone who doesn't actively run. The story was a mix of memoire, self help and tutorial but didn't get weighed down by focusing on one more than the other.

I have had this on my 'to read' list for nearly eight years, which could be one of the first books I added with Goodreads, and I am glad that I finally got around to knocking it off.

Exerting yourself to the fullest within your individual limits: that's the essence of running, and a metaphor for life - and for me, for writing as well. I believe many runners would agree.

I enjoy stories about people who push the boundaries of their physical limitations. I can't say I have ever "crossed over" and willed my body to the finish line so Murakami's insight in to his ultramarathon experience was horrifying and engaging. The runner notes made for a wonderful insight in to his mental and physical fatigue as races would go on.

Each person may approach a race for different reasons but I liked reading about the unspoken community among runners. The familiar routines, the comfort of hearing rhythmic breathing and knowing that it is you against the elements. Regardless of skillset and experience the runners all experience the same high's and low's and there are no shortcuts in preparation.

The end of the race is just a temporary marker without much significance. It's the same with our lives. Just because there's an end doesn't mean existence has meaning.

In the solitude of running there is a void but I didn't expect there to be a helping of existentialism either, which was an enjoyable layer to the story. As I age I feel aches and pains more distinctly than before and Murakami also illustrates his limitations and explores the limitations of his physical self.

As you age you learn even to be happy with what you have. That's one of the few good points to growing older.

In most cases learning something essential in life requires physical pain.

Nothing in the real world is as beautiful as the illusions of a person about to lose consciousness.

No matter how long you stand there examining yourself naked before a mirror, you'll never see reflected what's inside.

For quite some time now, I've been interested in reading novels by this Japanese writer named Haruki Murakami. He seems to put out books on a regular basis, has been around for awhile, and has started getting buzz in this country. And look! He's written a memoir about training for the New York City Marathon--except it's not just about training for the New York City Marathon. So, before getting around to reading any of his novels, I've met Haruki Murakami.

Mr. Murakami is a surprisingly self-deprecating man, who does not think himself especially bright or charming. He describes himself as a loner, someone whose personality isn't very appealing. Though he acknowledges that it does take talent to write, he makes it clear that he is not so very talented that it isn't very hard work for him. Likewise, he has a natural inclination to run, but he's not so talented that he doesn't have to train very carefully and diligently. Haruki Murakami is consistent in both those areas of his life, competing in a marathon every year. He also does triathlons.

Maybe the most unexpected fact about Murakami is that he started out in business, the owner of a jazz bar. Not only does that not seem like the kind of job such a quiet, pensive man would ever have had, but the gamble he made trading that steady income to the less certain future of a writer is incredibly unexpected.

This is a very engaging memoir that shows him in a more charming light than he sees himself. Incidentally, he's also a translator, and happens to be the one who translated John Irving's novel, Setting Free the Bears, into Japanese. Murakami has interviewed many people, and interviewed Irving in Central Park, as they ran together. He also got to interview Toshihiko Seko, the famous Japanese marathon runner of the 1980s.

The title of this memoir was inspired by What I Talk About When I Talk About Love, a short story collection by Raymond Carver. Perhaps I should put that on my list...anyway, I enjoyed this very much!