'People Get Ready'
On starting anew + learning from Curtis Mayfield, Simone de Beauvoir and Jean-Paul Sartre
“There’s something really powerful about groups and shared experiences. People might be skeptical about their ability to change if they’re by themselves, but a group will convince them to suspend disbelief. A community creates belief.”
—
, The Power of Habit
I love, love, love this quotation by Duhigg, a former New York Times reporter and the author of last year’s Supercommunicators, because for me it gets at the heart of why it can be so difficult to sustain a running habit all by yourself — but, when you become part of a running group, that dynamic flips on its head.
If you’re brand-new to our group or if you’ve been a part of it for years, I wanted to say, from the start, welcome. Some of us have been here since the start — which, I almost can’t believe, is now ten years ago, when I sent out the first issue of this newsletter in early 2015.
A decade later and we’re still here, still going strong. Some of us have had to give up running, some have taken a break; while others have left and come back.
Whatever brought you here, you’re welcome; you don’t need to be the fastest, strongest or speediest runner to be a part of this group — as the legendary song “People Get Ready” by Curtis Mayfield goes, “you don’t need no baggage, you just get onboard.”
There’s something so inspirational about that song — it doesn’t matter where you’ve come from or what you’ve experienced, or how long you’ve felt lost, or tired, or whatever. There’s still time to lay down anything you want to lay down — all you need is faith that things can get better, just “open the doors and board them.”
I think that’s what’s most meaningful about this day of the year, it really is a blank slate. (Or, maybe it isn’t, depending on what may be going on in your life — but it can be, even if it’s only in our minds.)
Lately, I’ve been reading a book by Sarah Bakewell, one of my favorite nonfiction authors, called At The Existentialist Café: Freedom, Being and Apricot Cocktails, which she starts off by introducing us to the French writers Simone de Beauvoir and Jean-Paul Sartre, who just over a century ago were wrestling with the idea of what it means to be free.
Bakewell explains that for Sartre, freedom may be the most important aspect of our existence — because the ability to start over, no matter how badly you’ve screwed up or fallen behind or done things you regret or what expectations you’ve laid on yourself over the years, means that every moment matters, including this very moment right now:
“Freedom, for him, lay at the heart of all human experience, and this set humans apart from all other kinds of object. Other things merely sit in place, waiting to be pushed or pulled around. Even non-human animals mostly follow the instincts and behaviors that characterize their species, Sartre believed. But as a human being, I have no predefined nature at all. I create that nature through what I choose to do. Of course I may be influenced by my biology, or by aspects of my culture and personal background, but none of this adds up to a complete blueprint for producing me. I am always one step ahead of myself, making myself up as I go along.
I love that idea, because — especially as we get older — the weight of the past kinda sneaks up on us, doesn’t it? Our concept of ourselves, the weight (we perceive) about other people’s expectations… it all adds up, doesn’t it? As Warren Buffett said once, we can sometimes find ourselves in a place where “the chains of habit are too light to be felt until they’re too heavy to be broken.”
Sartre tells us we can throw off those chains; that every moment, every day, is a chance to start anew — like today:
… roughly it means that, having found myself thrown into the world, I go on to create my own definition (or nature, or essence), in a way that never happens with other objects or life forms. You might think you have defined me by some label, but you are wrong, for I am always a work in progress. I create myself constantly through action, and this is so fundamental to my human condition that, for Sartre, it is the human condition, from the moment of first consciousness to the moment when death wipes it out. I am my own freedom: no more, no less.”
So, where do we start?
Over the years, I’ve learned a couple of really big things from writing to you each week: every one of us needs something to look forward to, a dream or a goal to strive for. And, it’s a lot more fun to go after our dreams and goals when we have fellow travelers to share them with.
The biggest and most pleasant surprise for me since I started The Half Marathoner has been what happens here in the comments — the connections we make, the stories we share, the encouragement we give one another.
If you’re new to this group, here’s what we talk about each week:
Our Wednesday issue features a lesson we can learn from the running greats, and/or from the great thinkers and writers I discover as we go.
Our Friday live discussions are where we chat about running, health, fitness and related things — feel free to suggest topics, by the way!
Our Sunday issue features races and places I think you’ll love running around the U.S. and the world, along with deeper dives + great reads and listens I find elsewhere.
Our Wednesday issues are free, while our Friday discussions are a mix of free and paid-only; our Sunday issues are just for paid subscribers.
Interested? I’d love to have you become a paid subscriber so you can get the most out of your subscription — just click this button to join:
In the meantime, I hope you’re able to get outside and enjoy a great run today — here in the eastern U.S. where I live (I’m in Atlanta, Ga., by the way) we’re about to get a big blast of cold Arctic air. So let’s enjoy the relatively mild weather today while we can! 😃
As always, keep in touch and let me know how your running/life is going!
Your friend,
— Terrell
P.S.: If you haven’t heard it before, this is my favorite version of “People Get Ready” by the gospel group, the Blind Boys of Alabama — it’s pure magic, and gives me chills every time I listen:
I needed that column, and I thank you for it. I’m 84, and while I’ve almost always run, didn’t start marathons until 2005 at age 65, with Houston, qualified for Boston (by 46 seconds) and ran it in 4:19. Then more races, climaxing with Amsterdam at age 78. Now, I have severe runner’s knee and need a group to propel me to a half this year. Thank you for being here.
Rain, rain, rain and fog, in the 50s. . . like a produce mister outdoors. Interesting you should bring up Jean-Paul Sartre. Husband #1 was obsessed with him as author. . . so much that he named his first-born after the man. Wonder whatever happened to the young one. . .this was in the 70s.
Still rowing. I have another challenge going for January. Did 7300 meters today (an hour). I'm in it for the Long Haul which will be 30 hours by the end of the month. :)