All it Takes is a Nod
Let’s be clear upfront that I’m not a serious runner but I do like to run – for a moderate distance. While I’ve never devoted serious attention to training or technique, I make it a point to take 5-to-10-kilometer jogs when life and weather permits. I enjoy the repetition as feet strike pavement – listening to music that encourages a steady pace – the strain of worries that are pushed aside by exhaustion and shown to have far less consequence than I imagined. There is undoubtable truth in the health benefits associated with running and while physical accomplishments bring pride these benefits are additions to simply enjoying the ritual of running.
It’s easy to view running as a solitary activity – challenging yourself to take the next step, pushing one more kilometer just a little faster than you did before – but I find that when I pin myself to a regular running routine this solitary challenge becomes rich with social interaction. As I jog alongside all the other runners there are inevitable pleasantries exchanged. Not conversations but brief nods or grunts of acknowledgement that have no intention of getting to know the other person but exist as a non-verbal mutual recognition of effort.
I first recognized this during CoVid quarantine times when I was stuck in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. To anyone reading this in the US, the location might seem thrilling, but understand that it was likely similar to your situation, with one difference being that my family was nowhere near as my wife was working in China and my birth family lives in the United States. I had no friends in Malaysia and there were no opportunities to meet people as everything was closed. I was alone in a small apartment on the outskirts of the city that was not my home with nobody around and minimal work to keep me busy. My goal was to reunite back to my wife but was mired in the mud of paperwork sluggishly slopping through partially open government offices. It was a lot of time spent waiting.
In an attempt to break the tedium, I decided to escape my apartment each evening at about 7pm, walk 200 meters along a highway, duck behind a bush, walk 30 meters down an overgrown dirt trail and emerge onto an empty road in a lovely, hill filled residential community. So I would start my run and explore the roads of this area. The first few trips had a limited range, as I was careful to stay on a path I could easily backtrack, but as I came to know the roads, my range expanded and to 15-kilometers or more, moving through neighborhoods I defined by changes in the architecture and coming to recognize distances between landmarks. There would be other people on the road as well – running, walking, strolling – everyone moving at their own pace while keeping a healthy distance, but as the months passed, I came to recognize the regulars and we would smile and deliver shouts of encouragement as we passed each other. I don’t speak the Malaysian language, and I don’t know if they spoke English, but it didn’t matter because we shared in a communion of goodwill as we casually exercised and ran to reduce the tedium of quarantine.
Eventually I moved back to China where I was able to reunite with my wife and where I still live. As mentioned at the start of this article, I still like to take the time to run, though the routine has become much more an occasional event, yet still there are moments of spontaneous connection. I’ve lived at several addresses in China, so the run location changes but the experience is the same when I find a running routine. My understanding of Chinese is minimal at best, but that is irrelevant as the universal communication of a smile, thumbs-up, or a grunt of encouragement remains the same.
Recently there was an event that brought this subject to mind when I was running and felt my engine beginning to burn out. I had taken a long hiatus from running and had only just returned to the exercise (my 3rd run of the week), and on this specific day, I had just passed 7-kilometers, but was beginning to feel fatigued – not wiped out, but also not motivated to give that extra push to 10k. While the number 10 has no special properties, having lived in the decimal numerical system my entire life there seems to be some achievement in reaching a unit of 10 as a marker. But if I accept running as only my personal challenge, it doesn’t really matter and I could probably just…-
And a man jogged past my left side, glanced at my increasingly slopping running form, gave a smile and thrust his fist into the air – a gesture used to indicate “keep fighting” in China – and he jogged past. Okay, so he’s just a little ahead, I’ll just catch up to him again…I dug into my soul, pushed my legs back into a reasonable running form and continued ahead for another half kilometer to where this-time I passed the man, but he was walking. I smiled and panted, “Good run,” to which he nodded, smiled and began to run with me. I couldn’t stop now. No challenges, no conversation, just encouragement by example, and 10-kilometers passed, 11, and halfway through the 12th, my body screamed for me to stop, so I respectfully bowed out. He nodded and kept going…for about 10 more meters before he finished.
“Bye.”
“See you next time.”
And it was complete. I have not seen my encouraging friend since, but I reached my goal and more that evening by finding that slight support to push myself to do what I know I can do.
This is a theme I hope to return to, because it an important theme for recovery. Look around at all the people who are on this journey with you. Everyone is moving at his or her own pace but continuing on your personal path of recovery one tiring step at a time can be the inspiration someone else needs, and if you need help, appreciating the recovery another can be the flair of hope needed to push your further. This is why we need to hear and share stories that remind us that we’re all on this journey together.
