Seeking his personal best

On dark Winnipeg mornings, heavy eyes, tight muscles and the magnetism of a warm bed make it tough to hit the icy pavement.

But there’s something maniacal and joyful in the army of 5:00 am-ers who defy the odds every day. Intent and content to push bodies to their limits — and perhaps more importantly, to conjure chemically induced euphorias where life seems to make sense — the mind becomes sharper and one can reflect on purpose, promise and perhaps the deep regrets which nag like an old hamstring injury.

Such is the memoir of Atlantic Monthly editor Nicholas Thompson, who in The Running Ground: A Father, a Son, and the Simplest of Sports, chronicles his obsession with running and his fraught relationship with a damaged father. Despite his young age of 50, it’s a memoir that is in some ways an owner’s manual on one’s body as we succumb to entropy and on our minds, as our brains begin to crystallize — we become wiser, more reflective, but we lose the spark of the innovation of youth.

Born into significant privilege, Thompson’s parents provided a loving home where he first learned to run through and with his father. A former Rhodes Scholar from Stanford, his father failed to launch, as it were, despite the promise which seemed to carry him through in his 20s. Scotty Thompson would struggle his whole life with alcoholism and his own sexuality, leading to a divorce, addictions to both sex and alcohol and a painful relationship with his son.

The simplicity of running helped the author deal with an absent father, his own brush with cancer and the complexity of raising a family while trying to establish a career via significant stints at the New Yorker, Wired and now the Atlantic. The parallels with running and his relationship with his father help create the drive to become better — even if just a little better each day: “Each time we do the right thing, we create a tiny imperceptible tailwind for the future.”

Running is a mindset — one that requires that we trod out each day so that we can improve on it slightly. But it comes with costs. As Thompson reflects, “For everyone who commits to long races, there’s a set of trade-offs that have to be made and deals with friends and family that have to be struck.” Running requires commitment not only to the task itself, but to every other aspect of life.

Moreover, Thompson posits that running creates a deep sense of discipline. As the great Kenyan marathoner Eliud Kipchoge is quoted in The Running Ground, “Only the disciplined ones in life are free. If you are undisciplined, you are a slave to your moods and your passions.” Maybe.

Thompson recognized how his father was undisciplined in his life, stemming from a poor relationship with his own father. This resulted in a chaotic life filled with booze, countless partners and his departure from running in his forties. The younger Thompson vowed not to stop running, perhaps out of fear, but most certainly, as he reveals, to break the cycle of fathers who perpetuate hurt. As he offers, “He had stopped. I was going to keep doing it, and I was going to keep doing it well.”

Sprinkled with vignettes of eccentric characters from the running world, Thompson also describes the process of becoming fast — despite getting older. In his forties, he becomes fully immersed in running and begins to tick off personal bests, culminating in a 2 hour and 29 minute marathon and a 50-mile (80-kilometre) ultramarathon. Working with Nike trainers and capitalizing on a paranoia to not choose the path of his father, Thompson finds balance, perhaps, in simply putting one foot in front of the other. As he suggests, “When I run, I feel things more intensely. When I feel things more intensely, I often feel like I’m running.”

The rub, however, as with many memoirs from men in their 50s, is that the mothers are often forgotten or relegated to a footnote. This is a strange phenomenon, given that it is always mothers who hold things together and provide the love and support. Thompson does come back to his mother, an art historian, but it’s the obsession with broken fathers that always seems to draw men back to an existential angst.

Regardless, The Running Ground serves as a meditative training manual for those who happily confront the whoosh of the cold air when the front door opens, followed by the pat-pat-pat of rubber on pavement. Thompson paints a path towards dealing with physical and emotional pain — a pathway that compels all of us to become just a little better, every day.

Matt Henderson is superintendent of the Winnipeg School Division.