Running Backwards

Destinations are often better reached while taking time to turn around and recall your origins. Something as simple as running backwards can give you this perspective.

On September 18th, after three days and sixty miles of pleasant weather walking through Donegal County, Ireland, gales and isolated rain showers were the conditions for the final day of my run, covering the last twenty-seven of four hundred and two miles from Mizen Head to Malin Head, Ireland's most Southern and Northern points, respectively. The day I started my run, August 19th, seemed to be ages ago and with the hours of walking I'd put in over those last three days, I was looking forward to this day ... the day I would reach Malin Head.

My left inner quadricep just above the knee, which I'd badly strained four days earlier forcing me to slow to the walking pace, was feeling better but would still revert to the sharp stabbing pain while walking downhill. With a storm bearing down on me from the West, I was starting a four mile descent into Carndonagh from one of the most beautiful mountainous tundras in Ireland. I was concerned about the stress this long descent would have on my quadriceps when the idea to try runnning backwards crossed my mind. It seemed completely logical. After all, running backwards takes a significant load off the quadriceps.

It was brilliant. It was working. Running with the traffic (running against the traffic while facing backwards would be suicide), cars flew by on the other side of the narrow Irish road honking and hollering, the pitch of their horns and voices dropping in relation to their speed. Up until then, I was just a runner on the road. Few had honked, none had ever yelled out anything. The looks from the rearview mirrors and turned-around befuddled passengers were priceless. Even better were the faces in cars driving towards me. Sheep scattered along the sides of the road, their lower mandibles calmly turning over as smooth as a finely tuned engine, also couldn't help but look on to see what this mad American was doing. It didn't matter. I was running again, and the fact that it was backwards only made the experience sweeter.

I covered those four miles in record time. Well, record time for running backwards anyway. I was once again a runner and found I had serendipitously stumbled back upon some of the early origins of thought for the run: the desire do something a bit different, a bit off the beaten path, and to take the time to slow down and enjoy the moment. No splits, no clocks, just a nice long run.

It is with this in mind that I welcome you to this blog. It's too easy to get caught only looking forward to the next task, next career, or next destination in life, soon forgetting what was passed. So, from time to time I will be sure to turn around to give you some stories of my journeys while still running towards that next destination.

"Though we travel the world over to find the beautiful, we must carry it with us or we find it not."
- Ralph Waldo Emerson