On running addiction

Running addiction means that even though I'm injured I feel compelled to push myself to run. The injury itself is a result of overtraining, one symptom of running addiction. Running addiction is not itself, however, an injury (like runner's knee, from which I currently suffer). It is a state of mind.

What is it like to be addicted to running (subjectively speaking)? Running is obviously doing something for me and, whatever that something is, I want more of it. More fitness, more PBs, more positive feedback, more miles, more Strava maps...these are all great things.

But I also want more: endorphins, seratonin, endo-cannabinoids, and whatever other kind of chemical constituents of the runner's high I can lay my hands on.

There are internal and external motivating factors as well. Why do I run? Internally, it makes me happy. The running is itself the goal, not the time or the distance. It is the running no matter the weather, rain or shine, no matter who is with me, alone or in a group. It's all fine.

Actually, the social group runs have really been motivating because they're often surprising. For example I'll learn things about people and what makes them run, their backgrounds, where they're from.

Another thing that has been happening lately is I'll surprise myself by running with people who are a lot faster than me. The surprise comes when I actually keep up with them for a considerable period of time. You reset your sense of possibility to a higher level when that happens. And you really get the runner's high then too (like a hit of all those brain chemicals all at once, buoyed up in a sea of sociality).

External motivating factors are the PBs and the numbers, how fast I ran and for how long. Strava enables a lot of the externality of running, of the goal-driven, social media side of it. Strava is unique for a site of its type, not at all like twitter or instagram because it is based on achievement. Everyone who posts has achieved something, great or small, it really doesn't matter.

Strava feeds the addiction, but so do medals, and times, and gear. I love getting a new pair of trainers knowing that if I run a lot a new pair is closer to being mine. I recently purchased an all-weather waterproof running jacket, rationalising that it's winter, and that I'd had a bad run a few weeks back in wind and driving rain. In this way 'want' becomes 'need' the more you run.

But there's something more to it, and I can't quite put my finger on it.

Why did I run 58 miles two weeks ago? Why have I signed up for four marathons in the space of just over one year? Why do I run to the point of injury?

Part of the answer is selfishness. But this is not the whole answer. I am selfish about running, sometimes. I run when perhaps I don't always need to, to make the time mine. It is inviolable time, no matter what happens. And then sometimes, too, when I'm injured, only then do I feel like I've earned a rest.

It's caught up in trying to prove that I'm working hard enough, and this is clearly related to other aspects of my life. The fact that I run has a tangible, and often a very positive, effect upon my career and sense of confidence outside the actual run.

Running has a knock-on effect into other aspects of life. It drives an energy wedge into things, and dispels hesitation, low self-esteem, and other confidence-destroying things. If you can smash your PBs in running, you can smash them in your job, your relationships, and in your relationships with time (and space) and money too.

After all, running is essentially free. There are very few startup fees, and only small barriers to entry. And you can build up both your body and your gear over a span of years. It doesn't have to happen all at once.

Conclusion: I'm addicted, but (mostly) in a good way. I'll keep monitoring myself, and reflecting on when I'm running for the right reasons or, conversely, when I'm pushing myself too hard.

For the time being (and for the foreseeable future), however, I'm really enjoying my addiction.