My last blog post focused on running as an escape from modern life and society. At least life as I know it. This idea has continued to bounce around in my head, likely stemming from my stressful work schedule. I work at a local CPA firm, preparing tax returns. In the weeks leading up to the April tax filing deadline, I regularly work 60-70 weeks. My days are basically a continuous cycle of waking up around 5:15am to get a 90 – 120 min bike ride (and of course my one-mile run to keep my streak going, but no more, because my glute is still not happy), shower/eat breakfast, then go to the office for 12-13 hours, eating lunch and dinner while working. Then go back home and fall asleep so I can wake up and do it again.

As multiple weeks of this schedule stack on top of each, general fatigue has started to set in. I have occasional moments of disassociation from myself. I feel like I am observing a soulless version of myself doing my tasks. I start to wonder why I am doing what I am doing. Why am I preparing tax returns for a bunch of upper class people I’ve never met before? Why is tax return preparation even a job in the first place? What is the purpose of what I am doing in life? These thoughts seem indicative of general career dissatisfaction.

This is where running as an escape comes into the picture. The time I get to run is an escape to a primitive, simple existence. The artificial lighting, air conditioned temperature, divided cubicles, and small talk conversations of the office fade out of mind. In comes a focused, heightened awareness of the terrain, sounds, and sights around me. After a few minutes of running, my mind and body fall into rhythm. Muscles and tendons work together with the mind to move myself through a terrain. Sometimes it feels like the terrain is moving around me.

This the escape I crave. As I’ve thought more about “escaping,” I’ve noticed different forms of an escape. Travel or vacations are also thought of as “escapes” or “getaways.” Sometimes a night of drinking is an escape. It seems that people desire moments of escape in their lives. A break from the everyday norm. Why is this? Why are we not content with what we do everyday?

“If you love what you do, you’ll never work a day in your life.” The great cliche. I’m only 28 years old, so I don’t know much about life. But I think there is a high chance that the majority of working people probably do not love their job. If they had the chance to quit their job and still be financially stable, they would probably take it. Most working people probably spend at least 40-50 hours of their week doing a job they don’t like, under the supervision of a manager that they probably dislike (at least sometimes). This leads to the desire for an escape.

Some people may find a minor escape on a daily basis by going out for a drink or dinner. Other times, if their socioeconomic status allows it, they may plan a larger escape of a destination vacation. Either way, I imagine most people desire an escape of some sort at various times in their lives.

There is something about modern society that people want to escape. The ultimate escape seems to be when a person is finally able to retire after 40 or 50 years of working.

I wonder if there is a way to live a life that does not include a desire to escape. I will always want to run. Maybe there will always be an element of escapism with my running. Either way, I know I need to start thinking more about what I want to do with my life. Find my “why,” as some people say in the ultra running community. It is very hard, probably impossible, to finish an ultra without a sense of purpose.

Music Selections for the week:

The Smashing Pumpkins album Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness. One of my favorite albums of all time.

Pat Metheny albums As Wichita Falls, So Wichita Falls and New Chautauqua.

Yes albums Close to the Edge and Fragile

Jonathan Wilson albums Gentle Spirit and Fanfare. Recently discovered this artist and really loving his work. Such interesting songwriting and musical structures.

Fleet Foxes self titled album. A classic from my high school days.