Running/Writing

This morning, after running uphill and trying to steady my breath, I realized that running and writing work in the same way. When I run, my legs move stiffly at first, but slowly loosen up and then push ahead into auto pilot. Meanwhile, my lungs try to get air in as quickly as possible. It's the exhalation that trips me up. I wanted to hold onto my air. I gasped it in, and I became greedy, wanting to keep all of the air in my lungs, not let it go. So I exhaled briefly before sucking in air again. And suddenly, my breath became ragged and my chest contracted faster. Through all of this, my legs just kept moving, not needing an ending or a promise of relief. It's my lungs that argued. So I kept running, forcing myself to breath in deeply, hold it one, two, three, four, five...and out, two, three, four, five. I pushed that old air out, forming an O with my lips. I love to run because I never feel worse at the end, even if the entire run is torture. There is never a time, no matter the distance, when I can't pick up the pace and push myself to the finish, sprinting to a momentary feeling of accomplishment.

Writing is the same way. It's not easy to start a new story. My brain is stiff and my fingers are cramped. But if I force out the first few lines, I slowly begin to warm up. My fingers start tapping the keys faster than my brain knows what to do with. And sentences form, then paragraphs, then chapters, and on and on until I collapse. But it's the exhalation of thought that I struggle with. I don't want to let them go. I want to greedily hang on to them, perhaps letting one or two slip out while I'm busy moving on to another thought. My fingers take over and type, but my brain argues and does not want to let the thoughts out. I want to breath in my thoughts and hold them, savoring their peculiarity. As if exhaling them onto paper might be the last time I'm able to do so. But forcing out the thoughts only makes room for the next fresh batch. There's no room for more air once the lungs are filled, and I can only wrestle with so many words at once before they dissipate and are lost forever. I must strive to exhale my words, to push them out forcibly and know that there will be more.


Exhale Darling

I've taught myself to breath properly while running, but as my mind wanders, my breath quickens and I am struggling again. Recovery training becomes key here; I must learn to recover while maintaining my course. I wonder what the recovery process for writing looks like? Is there a way to stumble on and eventually get back on course, or is there a need to stop, wait, and then proceed? I suppose it depends on the person. What is your greatest strength as a writer (or otherwise for those not-so inclined); what is your greatest hindrance?