Adventure Pace Running

I’m somewhat embarrassed to say that this only really dawned on me today.

When I’m out for a run, it’s the only time in my day when my mind isn’t in overdrive—or at the very least, it’s the only time I can override its usual hyperactivity.

Throughout the day, and unfortunately at night in bed, my mind is like a thousand monkeys racing through a house of bananas. It’s perhaps the most perfect animated depiction of hyperactivity I can imagine.

Despite what I’ve written in past posts about the “knowledge run” or processing thoughts while running—both of which are true—there’s something deeper here. Being in a state of forward movement under some sort of endurance load is, for whatever reason, a prerequisite for my mental equanimity.

I’ve been meditating formally for over a decade. Even with a daily practice totaling thousands of hours on the cushion, meditation still feels like a constant tug-of-war.

That may sound counterintuitive, but it’s an ongoing, effortless effort to continuously bring the mind back to what we call “the present.”

Out on a run, though, that same attentive presence is instantly available. It’s easily attained, sustained, and upheld—with a higher quality of focus than anything I’ve ever experienced on the cushion.

I’m sure there’s a lot of underlying neurophysiology at play here, but the ability to just dial in is unbelievable, and the contrast to my sitting practice is stark.