“I think running is your meditation”.

I had just come back from my second long run while staying at the Kandy Samadhi Centre in Sri Lanka and Waruna, the owner, invited me to sit down for a chat while he drank his morning tea in the open dining room. I could feel him quietly study my face as I excitedly chattered away about my running, how great it was to have this break from Afghanistan and how stressful things have been over the past few weeks. He waited until I stopped bouncing around and said quite simply, “your mind is working very fast – too fast.” The birds in the trees nearby chirped in agreement. Waruna told me that I had become too attached – too attached to my job, to the women I wanted so desperately to help in Afghanistan, and to other people in my life. And all of this attachment was causing me pain.

“You can’t fix the whole world and you can’t fix other people.” Waruna commented matter-of-factly. “As soon as you let that go, you will find your balance.” He said if running was my meditation (which it is), I should keep doing it – and lots more of it.

Some people use running for exercise, others use it for competition or adventure. For me – and I think more many of you too – running is my escape. It is my ‘me’ time when I try to figure things out.

An Ultra-runner’s life in the Afghan Desert

When I told my friends and family this past spring that I was going to leave my comfortable life in New York and move to Afghanistan, I expected that they would be worried. I braced myself for the inevitable expressions of concern, pleas to change my mind, and endless questions about how I would keep myself safe.   What I got instead was the same query, repeated over and over again: “but, what about your running?”

It was a fair question to ask. I would be living within the confines of an armed compound and stepping outside the enforced concrete walls is strictly forbidden. The air is thick and hazy from pollution, lining the insides of your nostrils with black grit, coating your teeth in fine dust and turning your eyes bright red with irritation.  I was told that running would be impossible, let alone ultrarunning.