Running alone together

From Running Director Heidi Caldwell.

I enjoy running on my own. Since moving to Craftsbury two years ago, most of my running and marathon training has been solo. I’ve grown accustomed to quiet hours on the roads and trails. I even crave this dose of alone time; relishing the space to think and the flexibility to run whatever pace I want. Many days, I consider these solo runs to be some of my most productive hours; sussing out looming questions or finding sudden inspiration for projects. Other days, these runs are a welcome respite from thinking, and I lose myself in the flow of running, not thinking at all.

We runners are no strangers to solitude. Even on track or cross-country teams, running is a primarily individual practice. This is part of why many gravitate to the sport; the simplicity of heading out your door on your own, the ease of coordinating pace and distance with only yourself, the satisfying grind of the self-imposed ritual. Everyday under the stay-at-home order, I am grateful to be able to continue practicing the sport I love. And while there is so much to value in the freedom of running’s solitude, I am acutely aware of its current starkness. Today, solo running is not a choice but a necessity.

But this necessity can be at odds with our usual experience of running. Although many of us adopt the sport on our own, our love for the sport deepens in no small part because of the community. The shared experiences of running - through workouts and social runs, at races or training camps - are often the most impactful. The people I have met through running, in every chapter of my life, are the people I remain closest to. I learned early that I feel most myself when I’m outside running, and most able to really get to know people. There is something about the movement and the shared effort that puts me at ease. To me, the bonds made through a rainy hill workout, out on an epic mountain run, or during chatty long run are hard to match. Right now, with practices and races cancelled, those means of running connection are scarce.

Their physical absence reminds me of the community that has fostered my continued love of running; the many people who have molded me into a chaser of wild running adventures and a proponent of fartleks for the masses. I’m not sure I would still be reveling in solo long runs or coaching running camps without the impact of these people on my life. Now more than ever, it’s important to take the time to reach out and connect with your running community. Together, we can keep each other getting out the door to enjoy the brilliance of our sport.

But in addition to maintaining and strengthening those connections, let’s challenge ourselves to embrace all that there is to be gained in time spent running solo. Time to wake up the brain and the body. Time to think and reflect. Time to appreciate the natural world, with no screens or podcasts. Time to check-in with your body: "How am I feeling?" Time to appreciate your body’s strength and ability. Time to check-out and not think at all. Whatever form it takes, it's time to yourself, and fully for yourself. What a gift!