I am not athletic. I spent my childhood trying and failing at tennis, swimming, basketball, and dance. I did high school P.E. online to allow more time for A.P. classes and, admittedly, to protect my cute hair from sweat. Teenage girl life is tough. But after years of convincing myself fitness wasn’t for me, I randomly took up running. It’s been ten years since running became a routine for me, and it has since enriched every aspect of my life.
You might expect physical health to be the primary benefit I’ve derived from running. It certainly is one, but I first fell in love with running because it brought me valuable relationships. For several years, I forced myself to jog a bit here and there, but never really enjoyed it. Then, in college, a classmate asked if I wanted to try running together. I have no idea why I thought that was a good idea. He was a seasoned cross country athlete and I was a half-hearted walk-jogger. But I ran seven miles that evening without strain. Apparently, talking about theology really helps pass the time. I am not convinced that the biggest hurdle to regular running tends to be boredom.
After that run, I was hooked. My running partner quickly became one of my best friends, and a few others joined us. We became a pack of four, running most evenings after classes. Running gave me a community I desperately needed. I had friends, but there’s something about exercise that solidifies casual friendships into sturdier bonds. It is difficult not to grow close with someone after running through college cafeteria-induced food poisoning. Exercise accelerates relationship-building because it requires you to see one another in various states of suffering.
Running, of course, also promoted physical fitness, but not in the way you might expect. I’ve written before about struggling with an eating disorder throughout my teen years. When I arrived at college, I was significantly underweight. Starting a distance running routine could have been disastrous. Instead, it was a lifesaver. I learned to care for my body not just for how it looked, but how it felt. I ate with relish. I gained fifteen pounds and didn’t mind. Endorphins helped me break free of the prison of dysmorphia. I saw myself clearly and learned to value health and strength over thinness.
I kept running throughout grad school. Other than playing for church services, long runs along the Scottish coast kept me from unbearable homesickness. I was so very lonely, being the youngest member of my cohort and one of the only single women. Running brought me sweet spiritual refreshment. Plus, sprinting along the beach where Chariots of Fire was filmed? Epic.
Then the pandemic hit. I kept running alone in Arizona, waiting to see where my feet would take me next. And then, I met the new youth ministry director at my parents’ church. He also happened to love theology and distance running. Now, people who love those two things reside in the cross section of a very small Venn diagram, so we connected right away. The day we met, we went for a long run, talking of everything from liturgies to the church fathers to embarrassing prayers.
Reader, I married that youth director. He’s out on a run right now, actually. Our favorite date activity continues to be a long run followed by coffee and snacks.
We moved to Iowa shortly after getting married. It was a jarring transition, but as soon as I found a few nearby routes, I settled in. Life feels much less overwhelming when I can pound my frustration and fears into a well-packed trail. Throughout the past five years of marriage, ministry, and work, running has allowed me space to pray, brainstorm, edit, and process. Without near-daily running, I doubt I could have written Spirit-Filled Singing. I remember needing a half marathon to sort out chapter 6 in particular. Every morning when I run, I feel as though I come up with at least two more ideas for posts, poems, or proposals. Running ensures I never run out of ideas, although my writing time is quite limited at the moment.
Running, which brought my husband and me together, has also benefitted our marriage. We have learned to tell each other to go for a run when we are being grumpy or unreasonable. Even with our baby, we prioritize letting each other go for long runs to decompress. As I told a friend recently, “I’m a better wife when I’m running.” I’m less snappy, more cheerful, more attentive, and more energetic. And let’s be honest: running makes people more attractive.
Speaking of our baby, running helped me through pregnancy. When I found out I was pregnant, my first instinct was to go for a run and let the news sink in over a few miles. Then, running as many mornings as I could prevented morning sickness from becoming debilitating. As long as I kept moving, I felt decent. Working out, although I had to modify my approach during the third trimester, also helped me have an easy delivery and quick recovery. Then, I was back on the trail as soon as I was cleared by my doctor and think that this helped me keep my head above any encroaching “baby blues.” Running has certainly helped me cope with the sleep deprivation!
Throughout all this, running has been a source of profound spiritual encouragement. I love how David Mathis puts it in A Little Theology of Exercise. He explains that physical exercise cannot replace the fruit of the Spirit, but it can support them in the lives of believers. This has absolutely been my experience. Running cannot replace love, but it can strengthen relationships. It cannot synthesize joy, but is designed to give us a mood boost. It cannot provide total peace, but it can support emotional stability. Endurance sports enhance patience and Paul uses exercise analogies to teach about self-control. If there were not a single physical benefit to running, it would be worth it for the spiritual payoff alone.
Perhaps this post will encourage you to take it running, slowly and steadily. Maybe you’ll invite a friend to join you. Don’t be discouraged even if you don’t make it very far. You can say with delight, “I went for a run today!” whether that run is a plodding quarter mile or a zippy 10k.
There is, however, one major downside to running of which you should be aware: unending laundry. Seriously. So. Much. Laundry. And it all stinks. But an extra load of wash seems a reasonable tradeoff for healthier habits, clearer thinking, stronger relationships, enhanced creativity, and an enlivened spiritual life.
