MORE FEELINGS, LESS THOUGHTS

For this months blog, Ben, Carlo, Mareen and AnaMaria share personal stories about getting out of the head and in to the body, inspired by a quote we saw during the marathon - “More feelings, less thoughts”

Ben

It's been one week since the marathon and the weather is finally turning. It's windy, crisp in the morning, and everywhere there are orange leaves.

I slip on my shoes, legs still sore from the 42km, and get out in to the cold morning air.

I have a lot on my mind. Personal conflicts, relationship issues, what the hell is the next step for RUN-N-RAVE, how did I end up quitting my job to run a running community?

Thoughts rattle around in my head like pinballs that can't find the exit. They sometimes feel like bricks in my backpack that I can't take out.

When I start my run I'm pretty stressed, heavy from the weight of my responsibilities.

But with each step, new feelings become present.

I'm grateful. Grateful to be surrounded by people I love, doing something that makes me happy every day.

I'm happy! Happy that my life is simple, that I get to run and take care of myself. Happy I live in my neighborhood and can walk to work, to the cafe, along the water and through the park.

I'm sore, but the soreness is strangely satisfying, more satisfying than any medal. It's like a memory embedded undermeath my flesh, deep in my muscles, of something crazy we did together.

I'm loving the breeze, and the crisp cold air. I'm out of breath, but even the sharp inhalations feel so refreshing.

As I run along the canal, the ground beneath my feet goes from pavement, to gravel, to grass. I feel it all on the soles of my feet, slowing down and picking up my steps so I don't trip on the roots of a tree.

The tree has been there much, much longer than I have. It has seen the city change, trends come and go, seen cropped hair and bellbottoms go out, and high performance €350 carbon sneakers come in.

Hell, this tree celebrated the fall of the Berlin Wall, and definitely drank some champagne spilled by celebrating young people, before I was even born.

I feel connected, and I've forgotten about whatever I was thinking about before. I feel good, I feel I'm doing something that strengthens my connection with my physical body and with everything around me.

It feels good to rise to the challenge, and when I get home sweaty, I'll feel the satisfaction of doing something difficult and rewarding for myself.

Carlo

Fitness and health have always been very important to me. I’ve always seen them as reflections of my discipline, commitment to myself, and overall well-being.

Unfortunately, my fitness journey has been inconsistent throughout the years. However, one thing I’ve consistently prioritized is rock climbing and running. Running has taught me endurance and composure, while climbing has given me strength and courage.

During the pandemic, when the world was at its most chaotic and I was trapped in a foreign city, running brought me solitude and hope. Despite being confined to a 5km radius, I found freedom running through the streets of downtown Melbourne. Every road was a chance to unlock a new part of the city and a reminder that I was capable of more than I thought.

Climbing has not only made me physically stronger but also mentally tougher. From traveling to unfamiliar places to keeping my composure 300 meters in the air in the dark of night, I’ve learned the importance of encouraging myself in challenging situations and being my own source of motivation.

Beyond the mental and physical progress these activities have given me, it’s the communities that have been the most rewarding. Watching people of all different shapes, sizes, and cultures push themselves has filled my heart with joy and appreciation. Seeing that, despite our challenges, we are all capable of more than we imagine is a beautiful reminder of how powerful we truly are.

Mareen

When I grew up in the GDR I was introduced to athletics. With the east German system always looking for talent, I was delegated to running because of my height and length of legs. Short distance runs were my league for about a year and I competed from a very young age until the wall came down and everything changed.

I didn’t really run again until one day, when I was 17 and my life was full of turmoil and hard to stand.

I was in need of finding tools to self regulate my mind and deal with the trauma I was carrying inside of me. So I picked up running again. From that day on, running has been the one thing next to Yoga that have been my `back to body` tools in my self healing journey.

When I run, I start to feel myself again. No matter how busy my mind is and how much I might be disconnected from my body, running helps me to settle fully back into my body, to become whole again - body, mind and spirit not just mind.

Focusing on the breath, the repetitive movement patterns and the connection with mother nature by listening to the wind in the trees and the birds in the sky for me is meditation in motion. Over the years I have used running as a pivotal tool to heal from grief of losing loved ones, depression, heartache and also trauma. Being able to see what your body is capable of doing and regulating not only your thoughts but emotions, hormones etc. is a gift for me.

If you can run you can achieve anything.

AnaMaria

Twice in my life, at breaking points when everything felt uncertain, running became my way back to myself. The first time, I was 25, visiting a friend in Munich who'd left for a few days. Her running shoes sat by the door -my size.

I'd never thought I could run, but in that moment alone, something shifted. Without thinking, I laced them up and went. I'd spent years living in other people's spaces - my parents', then my husband's- and had forgotten what it felt like to claim something as purely mine. That run wasn't about fitness; it was about taking control when I'd lost sight of who I was.

Years later, at the end of my thirties, just separated and truly alone for the first time in my life, in Moscow, far from everyone I knew, I faced another cliff. I had a job I loved in a country I adored, but I knew it was temporary, and the future was a blank page. I couldn't control what came next, but I could control my body and my daily choices. So I decided to train for a marathon to prove my strength to myself. Eight months later, I crossed the finish line in Copenhagen in 5:27. Running has taught me this: when life spins out of control, when the questions are too big and the answers too far away, you can always step into your shoes and reclaim your body, your breath, your power. Wherever I am in the world, a run makes me part of that place - not lost: always moving forward.