Running As Fuel for the Imagination

So I joined a running program – the “spring” session. I really had the urge to torture myself with this last fall, but I thought, “no, I’m not that hardcore to start a running program just before winter”. So I waited. The spring session was to start at the end of March, and I had visions of me running on the trails, by the river – birds are chirping, the breeze is warm but the air still crisp, just me and the trail….

Yeah. That isn’t happening. Oh I joined the running program. But spring is nowhere to be seen. There are no birds chirping. There is no warm breeze tickling my neck. There is only frozen ground and ice. And snow. Yes, more snow. It seems we are still in the dead of winter here. I’ve only been on one run so far, and froze my nose off. And my legs. And yes, I was wearing pants. We are supposed to go on our own or in the group two more days through the week, in between our weekly sessions, but I haven’t been able to bring myself to do it yet. So I have only had one session. I have to admit, even with the freezing cold wind, it felt good.

And this relates to my writing how? Not directly. But I am hoping this running thing will become a habit, a refuge, and another opportunity to gain some nourishment for the imagination.

I’m betting there’s probably a study out there somewhere purporting the importance of exercise to productivity, which could then be applied to the writer’s life. Anybody find there’s a correlation between their running/exercise and writing? Does it stimulate your imagination or just exhaust you?


About sharonholly

writer, reader, music-lover, glamorous facilitator of literacy...
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