Home Haruki Murakami What I Talk About When I Talk About Running
Home Haruki Murakami What I Talk About When I Talk About Running. It’s been some ten years since I first had the idea of a book about running, but the years went by with me trying out one approach after another, never actually settling down to write it. Running is sort of a vague theme to begin with, and I found it hard to figure out exactly what I should say about it. At a certain point, though, I decided that I should just write honestly about what I think and feel about running, and stick to my own style. I figured that was the only way to get going, and I started writing the book, bit by bit, in the summer of 2005, finishing it in the fall of 2006.
narrated by Haruki Murakami. Listening to Murakami speak about the very universal way our inner voice functions with random thoughts - like clouds in the sky that come and go - was a little taste of heaven for me. Given that I, too, was a runner for 25 years of my life - running marathons - and hilly trail half marathons - often beginning my training runs in the dark with a flashlight - this was absolutely a lovely delightful Audiobook. I enjoyed it very much. A collection of personal essays about writing, endurance, and running, What I Talk About When I Talk About Running considers the impact running has had on the author’s life and work.
Joel Rice, The Tennessean" a graceful . I’ve never read a Murakami novel before so I had no idea what to expect from his running memoir.
Joel Rice, The Tennessean" a graceful explanation of Mr. Murakami's intertwining obsessions, conveyed with his characteristic ability to draw unexpected connections. I’d seen it on the bookshelf of a number of runners so as I started training for my first marathon a few weeks ago, I picked up the book as well.
Also by Haruki Murakami. When I’m running I don’t have to talk to anybody and don’t have to listen to anybody. I’m often asked what I think about as I run. Usually the people who ask this have never run long distances themselves. I always ponder the question.
What I Talk About When I Talk About Running is a memoir by Haruki Murakami in which he writes about his interest and participation in long-distance running. The book is translated by Philip Gabriel. Murakami started running in the early 1980s and since then has competed in over twenty marathons and an ultramarathon. The book's title was inspired by Raymond Carver's collection of short stories entitled What We Talk About When We Talk About Love. Interview with Murakami from Runner's World.
What a delightful read! I love his fiction, having read "The Wind Up Bird Chronicle" back in the '90's when it was first published, followed by a couple of his other books. I have been meaning to catc. h back up with him and read his more recent books that I've seen and heard about many friends reading, but I hadn't gotten there. Luckily, this was a weekend. I didn't know Murakami was a runner! A triathlete!
Alastair Campbell takes a fellow novelist's views on life and running in his stride.
Whatever respect I had for Haruki Murakami as a writer - which is considerable - it is as nothing to the depth of my bow down before the Japanese novelist on discovering that he has run an ultramarathon
What makes a runner - who hits the pavement day after day, mile after mile - keep going? There is a myth that Tibetan monks run 300 miles in 30 hours by fixating on a distant object and repeating a mantra with each footfall.
What makes a runner - who hits the pavement day after day, mile after mile - keep going? There is a myth that Tibetan monks run 300 miles in 30 hours by fixating on a distant object and repeating a mantra with each footfall. Last year's New York City Marathon winner, Paula Radcliffe, says that she makes it through a tough race by counting her steps.
Murakami began running seriously when he was 33, in 1982. In recent years he has covered an average of six miles a day, six days a week and has competed in more than 20 marathons. In 1996 he completed an ultramarathon of 62 miles. Sometimes this interest is entirely that of a spectator (Oates), sometimes it is that of a keen if limited practitioner (Updike); always it engenders quasi-philosophical musings.
As I run I tell myself to think of a river. But essentially I’m not thinking of a thing. Sometimes when I think of life, I feel like a piece of driftwood washed up on shore. All I do is keep on running in my own cozy, homemade void, my own nostalgic silence. And this is a pretty wonderful thing. No matter what anybody else says.