Last month, there was an article in Runner’s World about the spirituality of running, and about using running as a way to disconnect from the tangible world, to commune with the spiritual. Cool, I thought, then made a mental note of reading more about it, then promptly forgot all about it.

Last night, I went for a treadmill run to forget a work-related trouble that’s been affecting the quality of my sleep. While I was running, I saw the issue scale down to nothing in my mind. It was nothing compared to everything else, compared to me, my will, my lifeforce. I couldn’t even get myself to care about it, even if I tried. I stretched my arms out feeling I could take flight. As I was finishing, I read the following in Runner’s World: “[When running] I break through the invisible plastic shield that separates me from life. I don’t care that I had three drinks last night and decided to be candid. I don’t care if the basement floods. I’m not myself. I’m all men and I’m not a man at all.” That was exactly what I was feeling. I have to blog this, I thought.

Then this morning, Patrick e-mailed me “thought you might like what she says“. She is Julie, friend-of-friends whom I’ve never met, talking most eloquently about the special zen of running, and finishing with a link to that very same Runner’s World article I read last night. That’s transcending the literal world too, and I take transcendence wherever I can get it.