In private correspondence the great mystery writer Raymond Chandler once confessed that even if he didn’t write anything, he made sure he sat down at his desk every single day and concentrated. I understand the purpose behind his doing this. This is the way Chandler gave himself the physical stamina a professional writer needs, quietly strengthening his willpower. This sort of daily training was indispensable to him.
Writing novels, to me, is basically a kind of manual labor. Writing itself is mental labor, but finishing an entire book is closer to manual labor. It doesn’t involve heavy lifting, running fast, or leaping high. Most people, though, only see the surface reality of writing and think of writers as involved in quiet, intellectual work done in their study. If you have the strength to lift a coffee cup, they figure, you can write a novel. But once you try your hand at it, you soon find that it isn’t as peaceful a job as it seems. The whole process—sitting at your desk, focusing your mind like a laser beam, imagining something out of a blank horizon, creating a story, selecting the right words, one by one, keeping the whole flow of the story on track— requires far more energy, over a long period, than most people ever imagine. You might not move your body around, but there’s grueling, dynamic labor going on inside you. Everybody uses their mind when they think. But a writer puts on an outfit called narrative and thinks with his entire being; and for the novelist that process requires putting into play all your physical reserve, often to the point of overexertion.
Basically I agree with the view that writing novels is an unhealthy type of work. When we set off to write a novel, when we use writing to create a story, like it or not a kind of toxin that lies deep down in all humanity rises to the surface. All writers have to come face-to-face with this toxin and, aware of the danger involved, discover a way to deal with it, because otherwise no creative activity in the real sense can take place. (Please excuse the strange analogy: with a fugu fish, the tastiest part is the portion near the poison —this might be something similar to what I’m getting at.) No matter how you spin it, this isn’t a healthy activity.
So from the start, artistic activity contains elements that are unhealthy and antisocial. I’ll admit this. This is why among writers and other artists there are quite a few whose real lives are decadent or who pretend to be antisocial. I can understand this. Or, rather, I don’t necessarily deny this phenomenon. // But those of us hoping to have long careers as professional writers have to develop an autoimmune system of our own that can resist the dangerous (in some cases lethal) toxin that resides within. Do this, and we can more efficiently dispose of even stronger toxins. In other words, we can create even more powerful narratives to deal with these. But you need a great deal of energy to create an immune system and maintain it over a long period. You have to find that energy somewhere, and where else to find it but in our own basic physical being? Please don’t misunderstand me; I’m not arguing that this is the only correct path that writers should take. Just as there are lots of types of literature, there are many types of writers, each with his own worldview. What they deal with is different, as are their goals. So there’s no such thing as one right way for novelists. This goes without saying. But, frankly, if I want to write a large-scale work, increasing my strength and stamina is a must, and I believe this is something worth doing, or at least that doing it is much better than not. This is a trite observation, but as they say: If something’s worth doing, it’s worth giving it your best —or in some cases beyond your best.
To deal with something unhealthy, a person needs to be as healthy as possible. That’s my motto. In other words, an unhealthy soul requires a healthy body. This might sound paradoxical, but it’s something I’ve felt very keenly ever since I became a professional writer. The healthy and the unhealthy are not necessarily at opposite ends of the spectrum. They don’t stand in opposition to each other, but rather complement each other, and in some cases even band together.
Looking the previous up in twitter I find other characters going around. Actually, I wanted to find a local book from Argentina on local races and runners and found, again, an American athlete: JeffGalloway
US Olympian, Runner's World columnist, inventor of the run-walk-run™ training method and author of 19 books on running/walking/fatburning
A race is a work of art that people can look at and be affected in as many ways as they're capable of understanding
He carries this idea in many ways that imply not only a race but the running itself:
Some people create with words or with music or with a brush and paints. I like to make something beautiful when I run. I like to make people stop and say, 'I've never seen anyone run like that before.' It's more than just a race, it's a style. It's doing something better than anyone else. It's being creative.
Unsourced: "The Only Good Race Pace is a Suicide Pace and Today Looks Like a Good Day to Die". This phrase may not be accurate, since maybe Pre didn't actually say it, it just became famous with no good reason. The internet.
I emailed Tom Jordan, the director of the Pre Classic and the author of the biography Pre: The Story of America's Greatest Running Legend asking him about the quote. Here's what he said: "I have never heard that quote before and never ascribed to Pre. Not that he couldn't have said it, but I figure if it were genuine, I would have heard it before now." Jan 25, 2016 | Dennis Young. Today would be Steve Prefontaine's 65th birthday.
Perhaps the "some people create..." quote is also without source.
A lot of people run a race to see who is the fastest. I run to see who has the most guts, who can punish himself into exhausting pace, and then at the end, punish himself even more. Similar to Murakami. But true?
Found radio-video on twitter Superarse es Ganar @contactoSA18
Description of video
Mariana Anibal | Published on Sep 19, 2017 | NOTA DE OJO AL PIOJO SÁBADO 16 DE SEPTIEMBRE 90.7 La radio pública de Marcos Paz | Sábados de 9 a 11:30 13 views
Sebastián Armenault es el único ultramaratonista al que no le importan los cronómetros: corre para llegar a la meta y conseguir que las marcas que lo auspician traduzcan en donaciones cada kilómetro que hace.
A los 40 años decidió empezar a correr, corrió sus primeros 2 km en los lagos de Palermo y a los 45 años dejó su trabajo y armó su propio proyecto: SA18
Lleva recorridos más de 25.000 km en todos los continentes.
Nota mental. Leyendo Canetti pienso que rugbiers son un poco como la muta, solidaridad mecánica, pero no tanta diferenciación individual. Tal vez el caso de Sebastián me indica lo contrario, una persona que realmente sabe quién es, y puede tener la fuerza para luchar en una carrera solitaria, no ya con apoyo de compañeros de equipo de 15 miembros.
Corrió su primera carrera larga pidiendo días de trabajo: Desierto de Omán, en los Emiratos Árabes, 165 kms. Después despegó con proyecto solidario. Consiguió respaldo de empresas, no había respaldo familiar ni personal.
Uno no tiene la vida resuelta. Tiene que trabajar mucho en paralelo. 250 kms en el Sahara! El primero ganó un mega atleta 5000 dólares de premio. Yo llegué 793, de los últimos: por llegar, por completar los 250 kms doné 3 desfibriladores, 3 electrocardíafos, 3 respiradores artificiales, 250 pares de zapatillas, 250 pares de anteojos recetados, leche en polvo, cereales, útiles; y esa donación superó los 50 000 dólares. Y en las conferencias que doy les pregunto: y para uds quién ganó la carrera?
Weber, material de construcción, por cada kilometro que corro aporta 2 bolsas de cemento. La gente de Puma, un par de zapatillas, la gente de GAE es un desfibrilador.
Las hijas se preocuparon cuando dejó la corbata así que la volvió a usar para llevarlas al colegio. Adaptaciones de transición se diría.
Carreras como el dakar pero a pie. (por organización y cuidados de andar solo por kms) cada tantos kms tenés check points, puntos de control, con médicos y demás. en los médanos de Omán llegó a hacer 62 grados entre médanos, y -8 de noche. En el polo sur eran -32.
Eventos solidarios siempre para mi país. Como fui siempre tan patadura es una manera de representar al país. Siempre llevo la bandera. Omint, Shimano, Gatorade, Gaes, todos van apoyando la causa.
Lleva recorridos 25 000 kms. El mundo son 40 000
Donaciones fueron cerca de 5 millones de pesos. Yo no tengo ni casa propia.
Textos de cualquier campo de conocimiento vinculados a las humanidades, sean científicos o artísticos (no ficcionales), cuyo objetivo sea problematizar y reflexionar sobre un tema específico.
Comedy and ultrarunning have alike that they don't care for the normal standards of life, or points of view. They just go crazy.
When I was a kid and a comedian came on TV, I would just freeze and stare at them. Being obsessed with comedy felt very liberating, because it didn't have to do with the real world. You know, a Mad Magazine, you would start reading it and you're going,
It was just, like, you don't have to buy it.
You could say, "That's stupid." "This is stupid."
Then, one day, my friend's older brother told us there was this place in New York where young guys were getting on stage and doing stand-up comedy. Not like the guys on Ed Sullivan with tuxedos and cigars, just young, crazy people. Once I saw that this was going on, that there was a world, I went, "Oh, I want to be in that world. I don't want to be in the real world." So, I came into the city in 1976.
The cotton-ball syndicate was always one step ahead.
Callon y Bruno Latour (1981), "Unscrewing the Big Leviathans. How Do Actors Macrostructure Reality". En Advances Social Theory and Methodology: Toward an Integration of Micro and Macro Sociologies (eds. K. Knorr y A. Cicourel), Londres, Routledge, 1981, pags.277-303.
Yaneva, A. : "When a Bus Meets a Museum: To Follow Artists, Curators and Workers in Art Installation", Museum and Society, 1/3, 2003, pags.116-131.
Two-Hour Marathon. Can It Be Done? Trying to understand what it takes to break the barrier, and to identify the athlete who might be able to do it.
By JERÉ LONGMAN | MAY 11, 2016