I arrived out here in the California mountains last week and the very next morning I went for a trail run. As I was getting ready, I was debating whether I should listen to the book I was in the middle of reading with my ears. After all, said a judge-y voice, I was in the mountains, shouldn’t I just be paying attention to nature? Why was I looking for distraction, when I could listen to the wind in the trees and the dust beneath my feet? Did my reverence for the terrain fall short? Then another, gentler voice, chimed in. Just listen to your book. Who made up these rules anyway? Who says you can’t honour nature while engaged with literature?

I listen to books when I run. I love the feeling of a voice cozied into my ear, telling me a story or illuminating a topic I’m curious about.

I listened to my book. I ran a favourite trail, while Clint Smith (the author) recounted his journey to Senegal to visit a slave house, in his book, How the Word Gets Passed: Reckoning with the History of Slavery Across America. In the book, he visits a variety of places directly connected to slavery, including Angola prison and the Monticello Plantation (owned by Thomas Jefferson). As I was running and listening, I suddenly thought—this land I’m on may not be directly implicated in these stories I’m listening to, but I cannot disentangle my privilege at having access to this gorgeous swath of nature, from the fact that this whole country was built on slavery. Never mind that here in Truckee, California, there is also the story of the oppression of the Chinese population, brought here to build the railroad under brutal conditions.

I realized that, for me, running with a book is a way of connecting with other people, just as surely as running enables me to connect with nature. I fortify each of these connections, by bringing them together in what suddenly felt like a spiritual practice. Often when I’m listening to a book, like Clint Smith’s, I am overcome by emotion. Because I am running, I can allow my emotions to flow freely. I can allow the book to touch me more deeply, because I’m alone and even if I pass other people, the experience is so brief, that I don’t need to worry about my tears or my joy being disconcerting. My intellect is interacting with my felt sensations to create a new reading experience. I can interact with the book in a more embodied way.  

There’s another aspect I like about running with books. I feel freed from the burden of highlighting passages and learning the content properly. Instead, I am able to absorb the book at a more cellular, experiential level, which enables me to make connections between what I’m hearing and other ideas that are marinating in my system.

Here’s a few of my recent running books:

Bittersweet, by Susan Cain, about the ways in which light and dark in our hearts are inextricably intertwined.

The Spell of the Sensuous: Perception and Language in a More-Than-Human World, by David Abram, that questions our habitual sense of perception.

The Way of Effortless Mindfulness: A Revolutionary Guide for Living an Awakened Life, by Loch Kelly, which is what it’s title describes.

Unbound: A Woman’s Guide to Power, by Kasia Urbaniak, which combines Urbaniak’s experiences as a dominatrix and Taoist nun.

Some have said that they don’t run as fast if they are listening to anything other than music. I don’t know if that’s the case for me. Some stories get me charged up and some probably slow me down. In the end, what matters to me is getting outside and moving my body. My goal is to run, simply to run. As an aside–reading may also be a goal, as Sam talked about in her recent post.

Last thing—I love running and I love books. So, putting the two together feels decadent and delicious, as if I have more time in the world to do the things I love.

My cousin Rachel was over for dinner the other day. She’s in her late 20s and art-y and youthful, and, as is often the case with young people, also wise. We were catching up on my patio over homemade Ethiopian food and talking about doing things that don’t excite you and Rachel told me about one of her favourite sayings “HELL YES! and nothing less.” Basically, you should do things that truly excite you and that things that don’t really excite you, aren’t worth your energy.

I’m often thinking about ways to bring more of what I love into my life. Particularly, as I feel a keen sense of “if not now, when?”, having just celebrated a milestone birthday (50).

There are things one has to do out of responsibility. We all have different barometers of comfort with respect to living outside our comfort zone. Doing what we SHOULD do vs. what we WANT to do. Is the measure of a successful life, finding that sweet spot where those two places merge?

On occasion, I think I should take some “time off” from my day job and spend some time really finding things I enjoy doing, speak to me as “Nicole, you have one time on this Earth”, but that also allow me to continue to pay my mortgage and enjoy certain perks of a regular, full-time, corporate job. But, my “practical side” has won over so far and I continue to do what I “should” do on that front.

But, this is a fitness blog. Where might “HELL YES! and nothing less”, fit into a fitness routine?

I already subscribe to doing what I enjoy when it comes to exercise. In fact, when Rachel asked me what I was looking forward to the week, my answer was “my scheduled exercise”, oh and, the Alanis (Morissette) concert on the weekend.

There has been talk on this blog about the rewards of doing something hard. For example, a half or full marathon is hard. There is a euphoric feeling when finishing that hard thing. BUT, if I didn’t want to do it in the first place, I don’t think I would have that same reward hook at the end.

Doing things that are a “Yes!” to you doesn’t necessarily imply they are easy though. They just speak to you. When you think about them, your automatic response, inside your brain and inside your heart, is “YES”. What are some of those fitness-y things for me:

• should I go for a run?
• should I schedule my regular strength and conditioning workout(s)?
• should I walk to (store, friend’s house, restaurant, work)?
• should I take a rest day (my initial response is usually no, but if I really listen to my body, the response is YES and when I do take it, my body thanks me)?

At the same time, movement should be (mostly) fun. It most certainly shouldn’t feel like a chore. Some people naturally find movement fun. Some find it hard to start, but fun once they are doing it. Some find a lot of movement a chore. I am lucky that I find each of the activities I listed above, naturally, fun. But, if I didn’t, I would hope that I would look for ones that work for me. Note to say that I am not dismissing that in many cases, wanting to do something is not all that’s necessary. There are other factors that can prevent someone from participating in certain movement, whether a disability or a real lack of time.

Assuming someone can do something and has the time, I love the idea of people finding time for movement they enjoy. Also, I love the idea of people finding joy in movement, where they didn’t expect to. AND, not spending time on movement that feels mediocre to you. It might be someone else’s jam, but not for you. That’s OK, find what IS FOR YOU.

What forms of fitness do you automatically say YES to? What can you let go of that is mediocre for you? Letting go of the mediocre activities might make room for the ones that excite you. Let me know what types of activities make you respond with “HELL YES!”?