Readers!
As many of you know, I have been running for a long time, almost as long as I’ve been a full time freelance writer.
I’m far from the only person to make the connection between writing and running. Haruki Murakami wrote a whole memoir about it. But it’s my newsletter, so I can do what I want.
Instead of trying to describe how my brain is affected by running (in a good way!), instead here are six practical lessons one has taught me about the other.
1. When you don’t want to, set a shorter goal. You’ll probably keep going. When I really don’t feel like running, I’ll tell myself “just run one mile.” If it’s not working out, I can stop. I rarely do, once I’m out there. The same is true with writing. I tell myself to sit down and write for 10 minutes, whether it’s a tricky story I’m working on, or my novel in progress. Often, I’ll keep going until either the story is done, or I need to get up to attend to a dog.
2. But it’s OK to take a break. It might give you a new perspective. Sometimes I’ll run that mile and stop, because the body needs a rest. Same thing with writing. If I feel like I’m banging my brain against the keyboard, I’ll take a break and come back to it at another time. I might fix the problem in my head while not at my computer; other times, just being refreshed makes all the difference. An extended break is sometimes needed too. Last spring, I quit running, and wrote about why in Slate. When I came back to it in December, I realized how much I’d missed it, and had a new point of view on the endeavor. Same with writing. I haven’t quit (I can’t — its how I pay my mortgage), but after failing to sell two non-fiction books in a row, I took some time off, and a novel started to emerge.
3. The path isn’t going to be smooth, and that’s OK. I’ve had great years of running, where I placed in my age group in local races, and bad years when I’ve been sidelined by injury. A map of those peaks and valleys would look like a roller coaster. Same with writing. But I’ve been doing both long enough that I have confidence that I’ll navigate the low times, and a peak may come when I least expect it, as long as I keep putting in the work (and can tell when I need a break).
4. Try the new thing. In 2012, I ran my first trail race, and it added another dimension to my running. I still run road races, but sometimes I just want to run in the woods with a bunch of weirdos who enjoy the same thing — and I think my road races are better for it. That’s how I’ve felt about this recent dip into fiction. Even if I never sell the book, I’m learning so much by not only trying a different kind of writing endeavor, but I’m also reading different kinds of books as I try to figure out what I want to write (and what I don’t), and how the best fiction writers create a narrative, which is already affecting how I tell my non-fiction stories. Will I be disappointed if I don’t sell this book? Absolutely — just like the first time I fell in a trail race and banged up my knee. But I got back up then (and am running another trail race shortly!), and I imagine I’d get back up this time, if that were to happen.
5. Progress builds over time, even if it doesn’t look like it in the moment. When I started running again in December, I felt awkward and slow. But I noticed small changes over time. In Italy in February, I was the only person in our group except the tour guide whose legs weren’t tired every day. Last month, I ran a half marathon and wasn’t even really sore after. I also just noticed that my heart rate while running is down 20 beats per minute compared to the same time a year ago. These are all wins, but they weren’t instantaneous. Running takes work — often boring, tedious work when you’d much rather be watching Dateline (except you can watch Dateline on the treadmill, as I sometimes do). Same with writing. I went from zero words of the novel to 40,000 in half hour chunks. Those blocks of time felt small but built up over time. So now when I think it’s not worth it for me to try writing something that day, I still do, because I know it’s getting me towards the finish line.
6. Patience. I’m not even close to the fastest runner in the world, but I know how to negative split a race, where you run the second half shorter than the first. This way, you don’t hit the wall, or run out of gas too soon. I credit this to experience of running marathons and ultra marathons, where I’ll sometimes ask myself “how will you in 20 miles feel about pushing the pace now?” I feel that about writing, in choosing what kinds of assignments I’ll take on, and which ones I won’t. I don’t need to say yes to everything, and those smart decisions have stacked up. I also want to enjoy both writing and running for the rest of my life, which running while injured, or taking that ghost writing project for an industry I loathe, will not help me accomplish. I am looking far far ahead to the ultimate finish line. It helps me keep my eyes, heart and head steady.
Recent Bylines
“What is a chief AI officer — and do you need one?” for HR Dive
“A judge blocked an ‘anti-woke’ law in Florida. What does that mean for HR?” for HR Dive
What I’m Reading
A Dangerous Place (Maise Dobbs #11) by Jacqueline Winspear. I picked up this novel from a Little Free Library without knowing it was part of a series, but read it anyway. I enjoyed it, but I felt like I needed a lot of the backstory to get the whole thing. It’s about Maise Dobbs, a sometimes investigator and always Englishwoman who finds herself in Gibralter in 1937, which is full of refugees fleeing Spain’s Civil War. When a photographer was killed, was it by a refugee, as police claim? Or did he take a picture of something dangerous? Not bad! But I may want to go back and start at book one.
[Redacted] I read a book that was so bad I don’t want to even name and shame it here. It would be one thing if it was just poorly written, but this novel also had bad information about domestic violence. For example, a character starts as a domestic violence support group near the town’s police station because she says that’s where everyone will feel safe. In reality, police officers are more likely to abuse their domestic partners than than everyone else. Another character doesn’t want to go to the police because her visa expired, and she’s worried about being deported. That’s a very real reason why some people don’t seek help. But there should have been some line — even if it’s a “hey friend did you know?” — about protections for crime victims who are undocumented immigrants. And finally, the narrator says that any instance when someone goes back to an abuser is a “failure.” What a horrible way to talk about the cycle of domestic violence. It takes someone an average of seven tries to leave an abuser. These folks aren’t failures. They’re trying to survive. It’s like the writer didn’t even bother to consult trusted domestic violence resources, like The Hotline. Oh and the book has the overall idea that “you’re not fulfilled unless you have children. BOOOOO.
Phew, got my gander up! I can tell you one thing about this novel I’m writing, if you ever read it: the journalist in me will not let errors like that slide through.
What I’m Watching
Homicide. This docu-series tells a series of true crime stories using the same interlocking group of law enforcement officers at different points in their careers. It mostly works — and is better than a lot of true crime documentaries I’ve watched.
Nolly. This is a fun and touching three-part miniseries about Noele “Nolly” Gordon, who was a real person and actress on a long running UK soap opera. The series starts when she’s fired, and then tries to figure out what to do next. Helen Bonham Carter plays Nolly, and is great, as is Mark Gatiss in a small but critical role.
Ricky Stanicky. There’s fun stupid and stupid stupid. This is the latter. John Cena plays an Atlantic City performer who takes on the role of his life: Ricky Stanicky, a man a group of friends created to get themselves out of trouble as kids, and then used as an excuse to get together without their partners for decades after. Cena did his best, but he doesn’t have the physical comedy skills that I think the roll required. As I watched, I felt like the movie was written for another actor — and it was, for Joaquin Phoenix in 2010 (I’d have cast Jon Hamm myself).
Monkey Man. Excuse my language but holy shit. Dev Patel directed, co-write and stars in this revenge thriller, which is one of the best action movies I’ve ever seen. I’ve long said he should be the next James Bond. After watching this, I’m going to be even angrier when he’s not. He also went through a kind of hell to get this movie made — this wraps up why.
Bluey, “The Sign.” As the cool aunt, I try to keep up on what the kids are watching — and Annie Oakley Tater Tot, my dearly departed cattle dog, was clearly a Bingo. So I caught up with the show this weekend with my niece, then watched “The Sign,” a new half hour episode, last night. A kids show shouldn’t make me cry like that!
Nail Polish of the Week
Wire-less is More by Essie is a pretty good neutral, but wasn’t quite the right color for my skin tone right now. So I added a coat of Best Day Ever by OPI, which made the color more of a glittery pewter. That Barbie/OPI collaboration from last summer is a banger. Expect more of them to appear here over the summer!
Until next time,
Jen A. Miller
Notes from a Hired Pen ebook series
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