In his memoir What I Talk about When I Talk about Running, the renowned Japanese novelist Haruki Murakami distils the essence of distance running into a pithy remark: “Pain is inevitable. Suffering is optional.” The epigram leaves a few questions unanswered. To what extent is suffering truly optional? Does the maxim “The more pain, the more gain” hold merit? To untangle these questions, one may turn to Sabrina Little, an acclaimed ultramarathon runner and philosophy scholar at Ohio State University.
In her book The Examined Run, Little discusses how running can foster character growth. It echoes Murakami’s belief that focus and endurance, two essential attributes for a novelist, can be enhanced through training. But is repeating tough tasks the key to developing a good character?
Little asserts that “not all forms of pain and toughness are constructive”. Standing by her convictions, she refused to give a soundbite for a shoe company’s advertising campaign that advocated the theme of limitlessness. For Little, phrases glorifying physical sufferings, in particular “No pain, no gain”, are disturbing. For the running coach, it is not the act of enduring difficulty that forges virtue, but “the right motivation” behind it.
Little’s book offers a philosophical insight into the concept of “doing hard things”, intriguingly resonating with Politics, where Aristotle warns against the perils of excessive physical training. He concludes: “A man’s constitution should be inured to labour, but not to labour which is excessive or of one sort only, such as is practised by athletes.” For the Greek philosopher, a virtue exists in a state between extremes. Therefore, one should navigate between excess and deficiency in both acts and emotions. For instance, an excess of fear leads to cowardice, but a deficiency brings recklessness. Between these two vices lies the virtue of courage. Aristotle’s theory on virtue ethics, also known as the doctrine of the Golden Mean, captures the importance of finding the equilibrium.
With this philosophical backdrop, we may now understand how perseverance in distance running can go awry sometimes. While the phrase “death before DNF (Did Not Finish)” is often delivered with humour, it can reflect a kind of excessive perseverance instead of a manifestation of willpower. When runners relentlessly pursue a goal that is no longer worth sweating for, they risk turning perseverance into intransigence. This is particularly so when wounded runners limp and hobble in a futile attempt to finish their races, only to sustain injuries that could imperil their long-term health.
Striking the perfect balance is vital for anyone engaged in the rigors of distance running. When this equilibrium is achieved, distance running, heralded as the epitome of endurance, unveils its remarkable psychological benefits. Notably, it transcends mere physical fitness to cultivate emotional intelligence. In explaining the importance of downregulating heightened emotions for runners, Little quotes in her book an old adage: “Emotions can cook your food or set your kitchen on fire.” Runners who remain calm while under distress can manage their energy effectively throughout the race, a skill “conducive to the development of certain virtues”.
Even the fastest runners will slow down some day, a reality both Murakami and Little know only too well. The former likens ageing to a river flowing to sea, an inevitable landscape in nature. Juggling motherhood and an academic career, Little finds it difficult to maintain the same pace she once found effortless. Yet, coming to terms with their limits has not taken the joy of running from either of them—both continue to relish the sport without fixating on time.
In life’s marathon, no one can outpace Father Time. All we can do is to keep moving forward, one step at a time, for the race is not about speed but rather endurance.
