What I write about, what Murakami talks about, when he talks about running
The first time I heard about Murakami was in a “Made in Heights” song, a pop-ish electro song from about 2015 (according to when it was uploaded on Youtube). I liked the song, hence the name became familiar. Still, I was unaware of who or what “Murakami” actually stood for. The penny finally dropped, after a university, let’s call it, “romantic acquaintance” introduced me to the author Murakami. As these things never lasted for a very long time (for me) in university, I never got to the point of actually reading Murakami.
After learning a bit more about literature, I became aware of Murakami again. What I talk about when I talk about running intrigued me with the concept of a professional writer, writing about running. Even though I already heard that the book was not truly about running. My simple thought process was: “I am somewhat of a regular runner myself and find joy in writing. So why not read the text from someone with a lot more success in both of these aspects than me?” So what did I learn?
Right off the bat, Murakami lets the reader know that this text is not written in the usual novel style but in a memoir form. A personal memoir of how running and writing have many things in common. He draws similar life lessons from both activities and how they apply to both running and writing.
Within the first few pages of this memoir, I felt totally “understood”, in a way few books have made me feel like. It was as if someone put the tangled up feelings and thoughts of my mind onto paper for me to read. This burst of initial familiarity with Murakami’s written thoughts carried me through the whole book. Even though in the 2nd half, Murakami talks about running and writing in the context of getting older. Me, being 29 years as of the day this text is written, don’t have much to relate to in that regard yet. Maybe as I grow older I will better understand. My father is reading the book now as well. I could see him connect much more with the 2nd half than I did.
In this sense, I’d like to share two life lessons I took from the book:
The first “life lesson” I’d like to highlight is that for Murakami, both in writing and running there is a combination of “talent” and “focus” or “discipline” needed to succeed. In order to be great at running or writing, you have to “exert yourself to the fullest within your individual limits”. The most talented person will only succeed up to a certain level if he or she lacks the necessary discipline. I believe this to hold true not only in running and writing. I believe it to be true in more areas of life than not. School, other sports, work, life in general.
The lifelong task is to find your very own, individual limits. David Goggins (one of the people that pushed his personal limits the most), says that we’re operating at about 40% of our capacity. And when we hit that 40% mark, our body starts wanting to take things slow and imposes a “limit” on ourselves. A kind of psychological limit, which can be overcome by focus and discipline.
Yet there are legit limitations that you really face. Not everybody is going to be a great basketball player. Not everybody is physically built for it. These are physical limitations in which we need to exert ourselves. Not everybody is going to be the next Einstein. Not everyone has the necessary intelligence. In my opinion, this limitation would also be grouped into this physical limitation, as it is something you are born with and outside the scope of what you can change.
Now, if you want to push your individual limitations you need to figure out if the limit you’re feeling is a legit physical limit, or just the 40% psychological limit mark. Murakami and Goggins both speak about removing and surpassing the psychological limits. Both also say that many limitations we think about as “physical” or “god-given”, are only psychological ones. But how do you differentiate between these two types of limitations? How do you know if the current limit you are feeling is a physical one? Or simply a psychological limit? That’s the real question that needs to be answered. And that answer, I do not have yet.
The second “life lesson” to share is rather a realization I had while reading the group of sentences below:
“As I write, I think about things. As I write, I arrange my thoughts. And rewriting and revising takes my thinking down even deeper paths”. It’s a meta-realization I had when writing this. The fact that you can read this sentence, is a testimonial that I’m doing the exact action that Murakami speaks about.
By writing, you think. By writing you can put your thoughts on paper. You extract thoughts from your brain upon paper, to be then re-evaluated by none other than your later self. Writing helps Murakami and myself (and I am sure many, many others as well) to get to more precise thoughts. I cannot emphasize this point enough and would recommend it to everyone. Write down what you think, no matter how dumb it might seem. Don’t judge yourself the first time you write down your thoughts about something. You don’t need to make perfect sense. Just write it down. The fact that you write it down, enables you to “arrange” your thoughts and then think even more about them. It leads you to “even deeper paths” as Murakami calls it. Read what you just wrote down, and now try to make a little more sense. It still doesn’t need to make perfect sense, just improve your written thoughts a tiny bit. Repeat that process until you make sense. And that might just take 20 times.
This blog is a form of performing this exact action. I want to think more about the books I’m reading. I want to be able to say more than just “ I like it” or “I don’t like it”. I want to have well-thought-out opinions about the books I’m reading to be able to share these opinions with others. And then see what they are thinking.
So, what are you thinking? What are your thoughts around Murakami, the book, or the two “life lessons” ?