Why am I running a marathon every week?

A quick dip into motivations behind running

Vietnam Trail Marathon, May 2021

I live in Saigon, Vietnam, although last year was fortunate enough to travel every other month to Melbourne, Australia.

Pin-balling between the two places, I got to appreciate their familiarity, juxtaposed in the many ways that they are. The fresh, cool air and green spaces around the northern suburbs of Melbourne made for a welcome contrast to the colourful street-life and hectic urban shapes and sounds of Saigon. And vice versa.

I’m at home in both cities, and love running their equally mesmerizing back-streets, bridges, creeks, hills, underpasses, paddy-fields, flyovers, canals and parks. Melbourne even has a beach to run along, down in St Kilda.

During 2024, I ran a total of 4,000kms and, this year, I’m aiming to run a marathon every week.

But why?

#1 - I really enjoy Running.

No kidding. This might be true, however I’ve found it doesn’t quite satiate the curiosities of those who have questioned my sanity for committing to 50 marathons this year.

I know plenty of people who loathe running, and others who treat it more as a duty to their fitness and health. We’re told “thirty minutes of exercise, three times a week” is good for us, and running is a cheap and practical way of exercising.

But then there are marathons, and ultra-marathons. So, what drives people to run these?

I ran my first marathon when I was in my mid-20’s, and went on to run a dozen or so of them over the next half decade. I’d trained a lot for the initial one - the iconic London Marathon - building up my distances as I was advised, and then enduring the infamous “wall” moment, a few miles from the end, when the expanding lactic acid in my legs decided enough was enough, and it felt like my quads and calf muscles were being clubbed into submission.

At the finish line, I remember wandering through crowds of fellow participants, many of whom were sat on the floor smoking cigarettes, and all was silence, save the flutter of silver space blankets wrapped around people’s shoulders. I made it to the fountain in Trafalgar Square and met my family, and we went to the pub.

I couldn’t walk properly for about five days afterwards, and seem to recall eating and drinking like a Roman for a fortnight. I wouldn’t say I enjoyed that first marathon. In some way, I was left feeling puzzled by the experience.

But I was quite taken by the challenge element of a marathon, and having a ‘goal’. I’ve often organised runs around certain milestone moments (I’m 50 in April, hence this year’s challenge). Back in 2005, a friend and I took part in an Ironman, largely as a fundraiser, but the fact we were both turning thirty the same year definitely acted as a driver, too.

Wind forward to 2016 and, after a midlife hiatus whereby hardly any running took place for a decade, I met up with my best mate in Abu Dhabi for a weekend (as you do, when one of you lives in the UK and one in Vietnam) and we went for a run.

It sparked something in me, and I was back running again. Since then, with my job taking me overseas a lot, I’ve very special memories of exploring new places on foot, taking part in various road and trail races, training with friends, and connecting with people, all through the medium of running.

It’s quite over-whelming thinking of the miles, vistas and conversations I’ve shared and experienced, all thanks to running. Too many to catalogue here, but these memories leave me feeling quite blessed. And craving more.

Montage from some early morning runs in Rajasthan, January 2017.

#2 - Running is Addictive

We’ve stumbled upon a second credible answer to my question, by introducing the word “craving”.

There can’t be much denying that, in my case, getting up at dawn, and going for a run, creates pleasure largely because of the way it triggers endorphins, spikes adrenalin, sweats out toxins and, figuratively speaking perhaps (although in Saigon, it’s more literal) let’s off steam.

As I post my runs on the Strava app, I am also gifted a further dopamine buzz, that comes with sharing and receiving feedback on my efforts to pound the pavement.

It is a well-known fact, in our household, that my mood and general disposition is much more agreeable if I’ve been for a run.

I’ll just leave it there, rather than dealing with the more troubling, potential reality that I’ve created too much of a dependency on running.

#3 - Running is about Control

I figure I might stretch this format out to offer a total of five, hopefully, interesting answers to my question. There are likely hundreds more, but I’m going with “Control” for #3.

When we are feeling stress of any kind, it is often because we are feeling out of control. Many of us seize opportunities in these moments to try and take control over something else in our lives. Running, hands over the reins to me, and me only.

However, it can go a bit deeper than that. Whilst providing an outlet for ‘control’ I find the act of running also bevels round the edges of any negativity I am holding. Negativity ebbs and flows, and can be hard to predict, but it is there - constantly there.

I don’t say this to shock. I’d consider myself an optimist, and an enthusiast, but negative thoughts will always persist. Some can be linked to small things, others to more existential dilemmas. I suspect we all have quite similar emotional dashboards, with red lights intermittently going off and on. In that way we are afforded the ability, unlike other creatures, to form empathy with one another.

Given it’s something we all deal with, I think negativity gets a bad rap, when compared to other forms of emotion that society encourages on us.

I’m a fan of Eckhart Tolle, and some of his views on negativity caught my attention recently. He has a nice trick for dealing with negativity, which is to imagine yourself allowing it to “pass right through you” rather than putting up a barrier to it, in the form of an angry rebuttal or a barbed riposte.

I like the idea of experimenting with that technique, and thinking how to better manage one’s own ego (the main culprit of negativity according to Tolle) in different situations.

Tolle advocates to “spend part of your time relatively free of compulsive and disruptive thinking” (as this tends to manifest as negative and critical thoughts). This is sound advice, but hard to sustain as a practice, perhaps?

All I know is that I find with running, during and after, I’m better poised to attempt some mindfulness, even if for a finite amount of time.

Ironman, Longleat, UK, 2005. No negative thoughts, just lots of tight lycra.

#4 - Running is the ultimate ‘A to B’ Goal

You’ll have to humour me on this one (I’m already feeling queasy at the thought of publicly pontificating about Eckhart Tolle - which is most likely because I didn’t run this morning) however, I find that the raw simplicity of “going for a run” - lacing up your trainers, choosing your route, mentally calculating the distance - is immensely satisfying.

It is, at its core, such an honest and attractively linear past-time.

Yes, there are techniques to consider and yes, at my age, if you don’t think more deliberately about stretching, nutrition, sleep, and so on, your simple ‘A to B’ activity can be compromised.

As we go about our day to day, immerse ourselves in the multi-dimensional acts of modern living, and the endless possibilities and decisions that lead to a myriad of outcomes and scenarios, it can be a relief to simply run from A to B.

#5 - Running and Feeling

Which tees up my climactic #5.

If you’ve made it this far down, into what has morphed from a weekly update on my marathon challenge (and, yes, I logged my 8th one over the weekend - phew!) into a mystery tour of why I like running, then, THANK YOU. I’d love to hear your experiences on the topic, too.

Running and Feeling. What does this mean?

I’ll need a few more attempts before being even remotely satisfied with my perspective on this, however for now I’d say it’s akin to meditation.

Running can create a meditative state of mind, that can help process issues and, as I claim above, create an enabling environment for oneself to deal with different emotions and circumstances.

I don’t find it to be ‘bullet-proof’ in any way, but on some occasions I’ve found the side-effects of running to be hugely powerful.

Physically, it is quite easy with practice to feel “high” during and after your run. However, mentally, the benefits for me are only just recently starting to form.

As with meditation, you can feel quite focused during a run. A friend of mine and I, when we run the ten minutes or so it takes to get over Saigon bridge (towards the end of a long outing, traffic whirling to one side, the river bending away to the other) we often describe that stretch as our “mental cave,” into which we’ve both retreated for those moments.

It is possible to have all those exterior noises and distractions happening, and yet to be completely lost in that cave, in the grip of thought.

And, from this place, mentally, onto this canvas within the echoey walls of one’s mind, I find it increasingly plausible to actually feel.

The experience is something of a comforting nexus, where the physical and mental, the shifts and pivots and thoughts and questions, blend, to create an aura. That’s the best I can describe it. I am calm.

In this shining, and often fleeting, convergence, I’ll breathe out, as my foot plants on the pavement and glides up, and I can touch the blue of the sky.

Saigon Bridge at dawn.