Betrayal
The ordinary vice*
Stoic Running Club
Stoic Running Club is coming!
I’m so excited for this; I’ve been dreaming about it for years at this point—YEARS!
To kick us off, I’m running a contest:
The first 9 people to correctly guess where in the world I am, and get:
A free lifetime membership to the Stoic Running Club
Lifetime 50% off all merch
Early access to new thinking, doing, and products
So take your best guess! Based on the photo above, where am I?
The Road Sign Contest kicked us off last week; let’s if this jogs (lol) any memories for people.
I’m so excited; I never thought I’d do anything like this before, but the world needs more philosophers, and we need more of each other. We’re set to launch in October; let’s goooooooo!
Betrayal
So many running columns and memoirs are about betrayal. The betrayal of one’s body in the face of one’s split times. The betrayal of one’s logistical abilities in the face of one’s training ambitions. The betrayal of one’s will in the face of one’s weakness. Betrayal is common. It is familiar. It is, and, in the characterization of American philosopher Judith N. Shklar, ordinary.* The betrayal of one’s body in running is a reaction to the pressures around that body. The betrayal of one’s will is a reaction to the pressures around one’s mind.
But the thing is that every betrayal that any of us feels is unique and horrifying. We feel the shards of betrayal enter our skin where they lodge and can fester if we let them. It happens in the face of the most banal occurrences:
When people turn a certain birthday and find that they can’t do the same mileage anymore. Or when a young athlete experiences an injury that sidelines them for the first time. When a busy professional skips a few weeks of training and finds themselves gasping on the treadmill. Each of these people feel betrayal so deeply that it seems like something extraordinary.
Betrayal can trap you in grievance. You keep looking back at the times you used to be able to run or the route you used to tuck under your belt without thought. You get frustrated that your present isn’t your past as you remember it. Maybe you get a little angry.
Try to never think about betrayal. Consider your body as it is every day.
This body will never be the body you had when you were 16, thank God. That body also betrayed you in so many ways, I promise. The body that you have now will never even be the same as it was last week or yesterday; it is new every day.
The will you had at 25 isn’t the will you have now. Your focus and drive are different. Your problems are different. Maybe more; maybe less. Those pressures have shifted, and maybe your will is stronger or weaker. But whatever it is, it’s not the same as it was.
And in that way, it is neither body nor will that betrays you when you feel betrayed by your run. That feeling comes from the expectations you carry of your body and your will. But if we refocus our expectations on the present and understand that we have no concept of all of the variables of all of the pressure around us, then we can avoid the fester of betrayal. That avoidance lightens the load of running and of living.
Betrayal is the waste water of expectation. And if one’s expectations are not accurately mapped to one’s reality, betrayal is inevitable. Set your expectations towards reality, and understand that you will never know exactly what is next.
Our bodies age, our will strengthens and weakens. But our perception and treatment of betrayal is in our control. Go run.
*https://www.goodreads.com/en/book/show/492062.Ordinary_Vices
I'm going guess...London, UK??
Madrid?