The ritual and routine of running
For me, Cocker’s observations about walking in nature can also be applied to jogging. I know most naturalists would scoff at this, as to truly observe the natural world, we need to sit still, but there’s still some truth in his statement for runners. Each time I jog around the marshes, I notice the changing light as the days get longer and spring approaches. I sense the increased bird activity as springtime approaches and nesting begins. I splash through muddy puddles, know that in a few months the ground will be hard, dry and cracked. Best of all, I relish the warmer weather, as it will mean that in a few months’ time, I’ll be able to jump in to the Yare river after my jog for a quick cool down. Currently the river is chill, grey and muddy.
Do you ever think about the ritual and routine of running? I’ve been thinking about this a lot recently, as I consider the rhythmic pattern that comes with regular activity.
The act of pulling on my leggings, fixing up my hair, tying my laces and setting my phone, all help me to prepare for my run and get into the right headspace. It’s a process that has evolved without conscious thought. Of course, there are still days when I have to drag myself out the door. But because I’ve now prepared for a run many, many times before, there’s a groove…a path… my mind follows, which makes it so much easier to get out there now than it was when I first started.
I am fully aware that this is not a particularly profound thought. Any regular activity, good or bad, creates pathways in our brains that we follow unconsciously. Negatively this can mean reaching for the vodka when we’re stressed or talking ourselves down when we’re anxious. Positively though, it means knowing that a run will happen when I follow a set sequence of events and pull on my running gear...however I’m feeling before I start getting ready to go out.
The last year or so I’ve taken routine to a new level and have found myself following the same or a similar route each time I go for a run. Also I always go out in the mornings. Stepping back and looking at my behaviour, I can see that my current routine: what I wear, the route I take, the time of day I go – has become somewhat ritualistic.
I have had moments when I’ve wondered if I’m becoming too settled. But there is also a worth to be had in routine. Jogging around my regular haunt of Marston Marshes in the south east of Norwich, Norfolk, I have been rewarded with much closer observations of nature than I’ve ever experienced in any other landscape. I’ve never spent so much time in one wild place before.
A local nature writer, Mark Cocker, wrote a book called Claxton based on nature observations around his village, and said: ‘In order to know it properly, a landscape requires routine and repetition…If ever one examines the process of nature then very few of them happen in a hurry…To do things routinely, to take the same walk time after time is not to see the same view over and over. It is to notice the incremental rate of natural change and to appreciate that nothing is ever repeated…Every time it is unique.”
Over the last year or so, I’ve been privileged to watch a pair of swans build their nest amongst the reeds and sit there dutifully until their five signets hatched. Then I watched the family grow daily, until one morning, loud honking and the rhythmic loud smack of wingbeats on water filled the air, as the parents taught their signets to fly. Now, as spring approaches, there’s just one signet surviving, its transformation from “ugly duckling” to “fine swan” almost complete.
I’ve watched the hawthorn bushes turn from white snowy blossom in spring to berried bare branches in winter and now there are fresh green leaves budding as the days lengthen and the temperatures warm.
One of my favourite pastimes has been taking five or ten minutes out after a run to walk through the marshes listening to the birdsong. Through an app called Picture Bird, I’ve given myself a real lift when I’ve managed to identify a bird by its song for the first time. Hearing a chiff-chaff and recognising it amidst the morning chorus of birdsong was a definite highlight moment for me.
For me, Cocker’s observations about walking in nature can also be applied to jogging. I know most naturalists would scoff at this, as to truly observe the natural world, we need to be still, but there’s still some truth in his statement for runners. Each time I jog around the marshes, I notice the changing light as the days get longer and spring approaches. I sense the increased bird activity as springtime approaches and nesting begins. I splash through muddy puddles, know that in a few months the ground will be hard, dry and cracked. Best of all, I relish the warmer weather, as it will mean I’ll be able to jump into the Yare river after my jog for a quick cool down. Currently the river is chill, grey and muddy.
When we make a commitment to start something new, it isn’t easy. Choosing an activity, deciding what kit to buy, when to go, who to go with…requires commitment. Then after the initial flush of enthusiasm, there’s often a lull, and it can all feel like too much of an effort to get out there at all. The patterns…the habits…the custom of regular exercise have not yet been laid down, which I’m sure is why it’s so difficult to commit to new practices.
But if you do find something like running that works for you, stick with it. The act of getting out there…week on week… leads to changes in your brain… chemical changes in the neural pathways, which definitely make it easier, as the days, weeks and months pass by.
So if you’re starting out with running and struggling to get going at times, do keep faith. It does get easier. And for those of you who do already appreciate the pleasures of running, look around you. Even if you live in a city and your only green space is the local park or a tree-lined street, nature is still about you everywhere. There’s a beautiful world out there – even in the tiniest corner of your area. Watch, observe and enjoy as you run. And hopefully…each step will make it easier for you to get out there next time…and help your own routine and rituals to evolve.