Sandarne, February 28, 2021
When I was asked about my views on the runner's soul for the podcast "Löparens själ" (which means. The Runner’s Soul) in January, I took a moment to formulate my thoughts. Here, I have further developed those thoughts. Fundamentally, I see the runner's soul from both a general perspective, based on the development of our species, and an individual perspective, built on our individual experiences. Our common heritage and our individual environment.
Research on the healing powers of nature for humans largely relies on what is known as the biophilia hypothesis. It suggests that human evolution has occurred to 99.9 percent in nature. The nature and conditions prevailing in the environment in which we developed have shaped us into what we are. Essentially, humans are wild animals that have moved in nature, lived where we found shelter, lived in groups, and eaten what we came across. What we are created for evokes positive feelings in us and is likely something we need to connect with to stay mentally and physically healthy.
The domestication that has occurred to us, meaning that we have become tame, settled, and protected, has been ongoing for a few thousand years and has happened gradually. Only in the last perhaps 200 years have the conditions changed drastically. Today, we live under completely different conditions. Just a few generations ago, bright, heated, ventilated, spacious homes with running hot and cold water, toilet and shower facilities, as well as kitchens with refrigerators, freezers, simple dishwashing facilities, and an easily maneuverable stove were unknown phenomena. In the best case, we lived in cramped, cold, dark, smoky spaces. A prince a few hundred years ago probably had, despite ample space and plenty of servants, less comfort in many ways than an average resident of Sweden and other industrialized countries today.
Today, most of our most basic needs can be met without much physical effort and without us coming close to the experience of being in motion, or even in stillness, in nature. We need to consciously make an effort to connect with nature and thereby evoke the feelings and states that put us more in touch with our origins. Feelings that arise when we work hard physically, when we find shelter after being exposed to tough weather conditions, or when we rest for a while on a rock by the beach and gaze out over the ever-changing sea.
Humans are shaped to seek shelter and comfort, to eat whatever we come across, and to conserve energy. At the same time, we are created to run, climb, crawl, jump, lift, drag, wade, dig, gather, and hunt. All of these are aspects of the animal in us, the one that has shaped us in harmony with nature. We are mammals, and all mammals play. If we look at children released into a gymnasium after a lesson, we can see the joy of movement. Look at a dog released into nature; it often runs around in pure joy. Cows released onto pasture jump and frolic, showing joy in movement, and the same can be seen with horses, running around, probably because it feels good to them, it evokes positive feelings, and in a way, it's play. Running is for most people one of the most accessible ways to connect with those types of primal feelings, providing relaxation, presence, soft fascination, enchantment, flow, timelessness, and euphoria. Above all, it's a way to play, to spend uncomplicated time in nature and in our bodies in a way that is beneficial to us in so many imaginable ways.
Possibly, our domestication has been ongoing for so long that the step is significant for many, and it takes a little time to connect with these feelings. Even our pets are domesticated, comfortable, untrained compared to their ancestors. They have only fewer generations of domestication behind them than our species does, and perhaps therefore find it easier to connect with the joy of movement and the experience of nature. In the short term, we don't need movement for our immediate survival, but we increasingly understand how important it is for our long-term survival and perhaps especially for our long-term quality of life.
The more specific aspect of the runner's soul concerns our individual development. It's about connecting with as many different long-term sustainable reinforcers as possible, i.e., experiences that to some extent feel rewarding and drive the desire to experience more of the same. For me, it's many parts; it's about meaning, identity, belonging, joy of movement, and nature experiences. Being one of those who can run far, who does it regularly and has the opportunity to participate in races and adventures, alone or with others.
Having it as a way to replenish energy and recover, somewhere where I naturally let go of demands and expectations, take a break from everyday life. Experiencing contrasts, in the way that nature and running can provide. Darkness, cold, and rain, sun and warmth, thunder and storm, snow, ice, and cold. Feeling emotions intensely and being present, feeling strong and alert, getting really tired and sometimes discouraged. Facing resistance within myself and through nature. Being able to set goals, experience challenges, competitions, struggle, and social camaraderie.
Striving to manage an aging body and for health and longevity. Something to always look forward to every day, every week, month after month, and year after year with structure, routine, and stability while there's always variation through contact with nature. Feeling like a better version of myself. Cultivating a passion through long-term and sustainable work. Finding something that becomes an important part of the meaning of existence and a strong part of identity.
A strong memory is one morning over 20 years ago when I, for the first time, got to join summer training with the group of skiers on their Three Summits Run. A trail run of just over 30 kilometers. A tradition they had, which they did every summer in July as the beginning of their vacation. Those in that group I had seen as endurance phenomena. Running for more than four hours through nature, up on three different mountain peaks in 30-degrees Celcius heat felt like a big deal to me. The realization that I SUDDENLY was one of those who COULD run in that way. Running under such conditions made me feel capable in a way I hadn't felt before. To experience that I was one of those who could run far and that I fit into that group.
The experience of the first Tree Summits Run contained a large part of what is my runner's soul. Being a part of a community, identifying myself as a long-distance runner. Making my way through nature, crossing streams, searching for trails, up on mountains, looking at the view. Through different types of nature, forests, and meadows. Getting tired, warm, and thirsty. Stopping somewhere to fill water bottles, rest, continue, struggle on together. Feeling that the body works, responds, and endures. Reaching the end, feeling a little euphoria. Experiencing a small mini-adventure, separate from, but still close to everyday life.
I believe that everyone who runs, benefits from finding what is reinforcing for them, what makes running important, meaningful, and rewarding. At the same time, perhaps it's just about running on, actually trusting that the feelings and meaning of running will emerge over time. My perspective is that fundamentally we are a running and playing animal, and if we persevere, we will sooner or later connect with those feelings we need to appreciate running and find our own version of the runner's soul.
Bernd Heinrich, whom I have quoted before, says in the book "Why We Run: A Natural History," something that for me is an important part of the runner's soul.
“There is nothing quite so gentle, deep, and irrational as running-and nothing quite so savage, so wild.”