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arguchiki ran 3 miles this morning, and none too soon--it is raining out now. i also ran 3 yesterday morning that i forgot to post about, so i'm ending the week with 13 miles. not bad. this week i'm most excited about the 4 miler i ran a couple of days ago. i'm tentatively planning to do another one tomorrow. we'll see how my feet feel in the morning.
i've been thinking a lot about running culture...the pervasiveness of races, running clubs, super expensive running shoes and clothing, reflective vests, electrolyte energy drinks and gels like gatorade and gu, and electronic gadgetry like watches, pedometers, and heart rate monitors. i'm not exactly a minimalist runner. i buy "decent" shoes (why do we use a moral term to describe a consumer good?), about mid-range in terms of cost, and i replace them about twice per year. in my experience, for my body, shoes make a difference in terms of injuries and also how running feels to me--whether the pavement bruises my feet, whether i feel pounding in my knees and hips, whether my gait feels comfortable and natural or unbalanced and awkward. as with all of this stuff, YMMV. i also wear high-tech synthetic clothing when i run. i wear it mainly because i have it, so i figure i might as well use it. i first started buying synthetics for hiking and backpacking, where it's necessary to have clothing you can rely on to insulate your body if you get caught in unexpectedly wet and/or cold conditions. i sweat a LOT more hiking than i do running, so i find it a lot more comfortable to hike in clothing that can move that moisture away from my skin rather than getting damp and clammy. cotton is nice and breathable when you're home or just wandering leisurely around the city; but when you hike it gets soaked, and then it stops breathing and starts stifling and chafing, and if the temperature drops all that moisture will steal your body's heat, putting you in more danger of suffering hypothermia (which begs the question of why you're out there to begin with, of course). in terms of running, though...i really don't feel like high-tech clothing is all that necessary, most of the time. maybe on longer runs, like 6 or 8 miles or more (anything approaching an hour or more in duration), when the accumulation of sweat starts to become an issue, but on shorter runs i don't really notice a difference in terms of comfort, warmth (in winter), or breathability (in summer). i like to wear running-specific shorts, but more because i like the feeling of nakedness they impart. i also prefer to wear a synthetic sports bra rather than one made of cotton--that's the one garment that can get uncomfortably damp and clammy on a shorter run, and then it itches and chafes because it's tight. then there are the electronic gadgets...which i can't stand using. i don't even like running with music. i feel like that stuff gets in the way of what i'm running for. i'm not trying to be a superstar athlete, to "maximize performance," or to win a particular event. i'm not even all that fond of road racing, nor have i run very many races--i think i've run a grand total of 5 races in my adult life (i'm not counting high school track, because my approach to running was completely different then). i don't really care how fast i run, or what my mile splits are. i run because it feels good to me. my body feels right when i'm running regularly, and so does my mind. running can be a form of meditation, at least it feels that way to me--i focus on my breathing, on what's happening both within my body and in my immediate surroundings. i reflect on ideas or experiences, conversations i've had, concepts i'm struggling to understand, what i want to accomplish that day, ups and downs from the previous day, etc. in the space of running i can do that without having it devolve into worry, anxiety, or self-flagellation--what my therapist (among many others, i'm sure) calls "negative self-talk." somehow keeping my body busy with the immediate demands of exercise short-circuits the anxiety channels, and enables me to see the world and my place in it in a more balanced way. i am somehow kinder to myself while also more frank about things (situations, challenges, conversations) that i don't handle (or haven't handled) very well, more able to own responsibility constructively rather than beating myself up. the endorphins have a calming effect, i suppose. running in the morning primes me to have a better day--generally speaking, of course. MMV: my mileage varies...
in terms of the "running culture" i mentioned earlier, and its tendency toward high-tech gadgetry, performance optimalization, and road racing, though...i just don't feel like i fit into all of that. whenever i talk to other runners about running (and i have, quite a lot--i used to go to track workouts with my ex-husband, and i was the recording secretary for a running club for a year), the conversation usually goes toward comparative gadgetry analysis, or the other runner tells me what i should do to maximize my training plan, blah blah blah. it's kind of like that awkward feeling i get in some salons, where everyone is perfectly coiffed, and all bright and cheerful, and it's almost like i'm doing something immoral by choosing not to wear makeup or to highlight my hair or to use a straightening iron and seven different products on my hair. it's fine with me if people want to do all that stuff...for their running or their hair or whatever...i just don't.
this also reminds me of something my friend J said to me, about the bicycling community...that there's an implication, in conversations about gear, or when he goes to buy gear, that he's somehow being irresponsible for not buying the "best" (i.e. the most expensive) gear possible.
i've seen the same undercurrent in the hiking/backpacking community--and i used to be very involved in that community in vermont. i was a member of both the adirondack mountain club and the green mountain club (my first year in seattle i was also a member of the mountaineers, but i found it too annoying). my ex-husband and i hiked almost every weekend, fall, winter (on snowshoes), spring (except during the early thaw, when they want you to stay off the trails until the soil stabilizes) or summer. we had a lot of fun doing that, and in retrospect it's one of my favorite things about our relationship. back then i was a lot more susceptible to the socially produced "need" for "the best" gear--it didn't change my purchasing decisions at all, but it sometimes made me feel unworthy or inferior when i'd encounter people on a trail or at a campsite who were full of talk about their most excellent high-tech gear.
i guess it's just a variant niche within consumerism: "this product will improve you, elevate you, make your life and your body the best it can possibly be, protect you from harm, render you...oh so cool. and lovable. but you will also appear savvy, someone not to be fucked with. you will experience scientifically proven results. you will have fame, fortune, and (envious, inferior) friends." the flip side, of course, is that if you can't afford that product, the system (how's that for vague?) wants you to feel that as a lack in your life, in your self; as inferiority. and voila, there's your basic hierarchical structure of class difference and the desire for upward mobility, for the enjoyment of class privilege.
i get it...it's a basic sales pitch subtending whole micro-cultural formations that ensure the maintenance and continuation of a community of consumers, buyers, ones who will experience these needs and desires for more, better, and who will seek to satisfy those needs and desires with this particular set of products. that's how industries--modes of production--form and persist.
there doesn't seem to be an innoculation against this culturation, a space of full immunity. the best you can do, maybe, is to draw the line "somewhere." i wear the shoes, i wear the clothing, i want to run, i feel better when i run, i count the miles that i run...what would a space of immunity look like? i'd be running barefoot, i suppose, or in my regular street/work shoes; wearing regular street clothes; running until i felt like turning around and then running home. and why not? is there something wrong with doing it that way? why don't i want to do it that way? why do i draw the line at gadgetry? does my act of personal line-drawing amount to a sort of reverse-moralism aimed at those who draw their lines elsewhere? i don't think so...run and let run, you know? as for the rest, i don't have answers.
i've been thinking a lot about running culture...the pervasiveness of races, running clubs, super expensive running shoes and clothing, reflective vests, electrolyte energy drinks and gels like gatorade and gu, and electronic gadgetry like watches, pedometers, and heart rate monitors. i'm not exactly a minimalist runner. i buy "decent" shoes (why do we use a moral term to describe a consumer good?), about mid-range in terms of cost, and i replace them about twice per year. in my experience, for my body, shoes make a difference in terms of injuries and also how running feels to me--whether the pavement bruises my feet, whether i feel pounding in my knees and hips, whether my gait feels comfortable and natural or unbalanced and awkward. as with all of this stuff, YMMV. i also wear high-tech synthetic clothing when i run. i wear it mainly because i have it, so i figure i might as well use it. i first started buying synthetics for hiking and backpacking, where it's necessary to have clothing you can rely on to insulate your body if you get caught in unexpectedly wet and/or cold conditions. i sweat a LOT more hiking than i do running, so i find it a lot more comfortable to hike in clothing that can move that moisture away from my skin rather than getting damp and clammy. cotton is nice and breathable when you're home or just wandering leisurely around the city; but when you hike it gets soaked, and then it stops breathing and starts stifling and chafing, and if the temperature drops all that moisture will steal your body's heat, putting you in more danger of suffering hypothermia (which begs the question of why you're out there to begin with, of course). in terms of running, though...i really don't feel like high-tech clothing is all that necessary, most of the time. maybe on longer runs, like 6 or 8 miles or more (anything approaching an hour or more in duration), when the accumulation of sweat starts to become an issue, but on shorter runs i don't really notice a difference in terms of comfort, warmth (in winter), or breathability (in summer). i like to wear running-specific shorts, but more because i like the feeling of nakedness they impart. i also prefer to wear a synthetic sports bra rather than one made of cotton--that's the one garment that can get uncomfortably damp and clammy on a shorter run, and then it itches and chafes because it's tight. then there are the electronic gadgets...which i can't stand using. i don't even like running with music. i feel like that stuff gets in the way of what i'm running for. i'm not trying to be a superstar athlete, to "maximize performance," or to win a particular event. i'm not even all that fond of road racing, nor have i run very many races--i think i've run a grand total of 5 races in my adult life (i'm not counting high school track, because my approach to running was completely different then). i don't really care how fast i run, or what my mile splits are. i run because it feels good to me. my body feels right when i'm running regularly, and so does my mind. running can be a form of meditation, at least it feels that way to me--i focus on my breathing, on what's happening both within my body and in my immediate surroundings. i reflect on ideas or experiences, conversations i've had, concepts i'm struggling to understand, what i want to accomplish that day, ups and downs from the previous day, etc. in the space of running i can do that without having it devolve into worry, anxiety, or self-flagellation--what my therapist (among many others, i'm sure) calls "negative self-talk." somehow keeping my body busy with the immediate demands of exercise short-circuits the anxiety channels, and enables me to see the world and my place in it in a more balanced way. i am somehow kinder to myself while also more frank about things (situations, challenges, conversations) that i don't handle (or haven't handled) very well, more able to own responsibility constructively rather than beating myself up. the endorphins have a calming effect, i suppose. running in the morning primes me to have a better day--generally speaking, of course. MMV: my mileage varies...
in terms of the "running culture" i mentioned earlier, and its tendency toward high-tech gadgetry, performance optimalization, and road racing, though...i just don't feel like i fit into all of that. whenever i talk to other runners about running (and i have, quite a lot--i used to go to track workouts with my ex-husband, and i was the recording secretary for a running club for a year), the conversation usually goes toward comparative gadgetry analysis, or the other runner tells me what i should do to maximize my training plan, blah blah blah. it's kind of like that awkward feeling i get in some salons, where everyone is perfectly coiffed, and all bright and cheerful, and it's almost like i'm doing something immoral by choosing not to wear makeup or to highlight my hair or to use a straightening iron and seven different products on my hair. it's fine with me if people want to do all that stuff...for their running or their hair or whatever...i just don't.
this also reminds me of something my friend J said to me, about the bicycling community...that there's an implication, in conversations about gear, or when he goes to buy gear, that he's somehow being irresponsible for not buying the "best" (i.e. the most expensive) gear possible.
i've seen the same undercurrent in the hiking/backpacking community--and i used to be very involved in that community in vermont. i was a member of both the adirondack mountain club and the green mountain club (my first year in seattle i was also a member of the mountaineers, but i found it too annoying). my ex-husband and i hiked almost every weekend, fall, winter (on snowshoes), spring (except during the early thaw, when they want you to stay off the trails until the soil stabilizes) or summer. we had a lot of fun doing that, and in retrospect it's one of my favorite things about our relationship. back then i was a lot more susceptible to the socially produced "need" for "the best" gear--it didn't change my purchasing decisions at all, but it sometimes made me feel unworthy or inferior when i'd encounter people on a trail or at a campsite who were full of talk about their most excellent high-tech gear.
i guess it's just a variant niche within consumerism: "this product will improve you, elevate you, make your life and your body the best it can possibly be, protect you from harm, render you...oh so cool. and lovable. but you will also appear savvy, someone not to be fucked with. you will experience scientifically proven results. you will have fame, fortune, and (envious, inferior) friends." the flip side, of course, is that if you can't afford that product, the system (how's that for vague?) wants you to feel that as a lack in your life, in your self; as inferiority. and voila, there's your basic hierarchical structure of class difference and the desire for upward mobility, for the enjoyment of class privilege.
i get it...it's a basic sales pitch subtending whole micro-cultural formations that ensure the maintenance and continuation of a community of consumers, buyers, ones who will experience these needs and desires for more, better, and who will seek to satisfy those needs and desires with this particular set of products. that's how industries--modes of production--form and persist.
there doesn't seem to be an innoculation against this culturation, a space of full immunity. the best you can do, maybe, is to draw the line "somewhere." i wear the shoes, i wear the clothing, i want to run, i feel better when i run, i count the miles that i run...what would a space of immunity look like? i'd be running barefoot, i suppose, or in my regular street/work shoes; wearing regular street clothes; running until i felt like turning around and then running home. and why not? is there something wrong with doing it that way? why don't i want to do it that way? why do i draw the line at gadgetry? does my act of personal line-drawing amount to a sort of reverse-moralism aimed at those who draw their lines elsewhere? i don't think so...run and let run, you know? as for the rest, i don't have answers.
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