I read a post recently by a fell runner called Ann from North Leeds Fell Runners which has stayed with me. She described becoming more injured as she gets older and the loneliness that can bring.
Being laid off is no fun, in fact it is depressing and isolating, especially if a lot of your friends are in the same game.
It struck a chord. About fifteen years ago, club running made up my entire social life. I loved the chats on club runs and the camaraderie of competing against other local clubs. As the injures kicked in, it was the loss of connection with other people that hit hardest. I cheered them on at races but it wasn’t the same. The layoff grew longer and I eventually just dropped out of the scene. It was tough.
I have never felt more alone than at my local Parkrun a year or so ago. Hundreds of people all sharing smiles and stories. Chatting and laughing. I have lived in this town for most of my life but I didn’t know anyone. I ran my race, clapped a few people in and then went home. I hadn’t spoken to anyone. It was painful.
I have a thing about loneliness. I experienced it badly a couple of times as a young man. In my first year at university, I lived in a bedsit and the evenings and weekends were long. My first year in the working world was the same. I was surrounded by people all day but then went home to an empty place. It was painful. I didn’t understand that I needed to invest time in making new connections.
I am now in my fifties; my family is grown and I have been feeling something similar again. I have spent so much time focussing only on work and ferrying the kids around that I have forgotten to look after that part of myself. I looked up and realised that I hardly had a friend in the world.
In one of Richard Osman’s books, a young police officer sobs to an elderly friend, ‘Why does nobody dance anymore’. She is craving the connection brought by the heady days of her youth. He tells her gently that those days are gone. She needs to remember them fondly but accept that they are not coming back. She was on top of a mountain but is now in a valley. She needs to work at climbing a new slope and make the new connections that may bring her happiness.
If life is a series of mountains and valleys, I realised that I had been in a valley for too long. I was looking backwards and not forwards. I joined a local running club and I also joined a local choir. I was not going to put all my eggs into one running basket. I didn’t find either easy. I can find social situations hard to navigate but I kept going. There are many times when it would be easier to stay in the house. I have forced myself to be consistent and slowly, slowly I have begun to make a set of new friendships.
I have also begun to volunteer at that same local Parkrun and something else that Ann said hit home.
An older runner feels invisible, slow, in pain
I am not going to let any runner, young, old or in between feel invisible. It is awful. My job is to see runners and give them some warmth and a smile. To recognise the right of every single one to be part of the running community and celebrate their personal achievement with them. It is unconditional positive regard in action.
I walked home from our club session recently with a big dopey grin on my face. I couldn’t shake it. In an impromptu ceremony at the side of the road, I had been presented with an old, repurposed medal. I had come first in my age group in a mile uphill race a couple of weeks ago. It wasn’t the medal that was making me grin, it was the connection. The fact that people had taken the time out to do that and have a laugh. People can see me.
I plan to make my next thirty years the best ever. They are going to be about people. Loneliness is a dreadful thing and can happen to anyone at any time of life. No-one should feel invisible. To every single runner out there, I see you. Top job!
Photo by Sasha Freemind on Unsplash
