The other night, after a busy day of training and house building, I hopped in my bus for an evening heat training session. It was late. I could have called it a day and skipped the session altogether, but somehow there is something nice about zoning out on a bike trainer with the heater cranking and sweat dripping from the sleeves of my jacket.
So there I was, post dinner, dessert, and all the other things I had done that day, sitting atop my bike trainer in a heat reflective jacket and pants with my bus heater cranking away.
Zach Miller squeezed into his bus for a heat training session on the bike trainer. All photos courtesy of Zach Miller unless otherwise noted.
As I sat there, legs spinning and water bottles draining, my mind entranced itself in the sounds of a Spotify playlist streaming across my headphones. “Steady Love” by Ben Rector was one of the first songs to play. Thoughtful and mellow, it’s far from the high-energy rock ‘n’ roll commonly expected for a training soundtrack. Sometimes I like a high-energy track, but on this particular night, “Steady Love” invited introspection into my running and racing, and what I will remember of this part of my life when I choose to do something different.
Living on the Run
In the song, Rector sings about the fact that “You can’t stay young forever / You can’t keep from growin’ up.” He goes on to sing: “When your heart gets tired of living on the run / My God, you should find you some / Steady love.” The lyrics are profound. They suggest that somewhere on the other side of chasing goals and ambitions lies real value in finding a love that is steady and true. It’s a vibe of settling down and finding contentment, identifiable and conflicting at the same time.
Zach Miller finding steady love on the trails.
It’s conflicting because I am a hard-charger, a goal-seeker. I want bigger, better, faster, and stronger. There is a part of me that wants to resist settling down. Yet, the lyrics are also relatable because I see the appeal in this sort of steady love. The chasing of goals, wins, podiums, records, and qualifications is all well and good. There isn’t anything intrinsically wrong with the pursuit of such things, or as Rector puts it, “living on the run.” It’s just simply that I feel that running has so much more to offer than this. If we reduce running to a list of accomplishments, we sell it short.
Steady Love
Prior to hopping on the trainer that night, I found myself thinking about what I’ll remember when looking back on my days of running.
I imagine I’ll remember the races I won, or at least the big ones, but will that feel like the most important thing? Will it be the thing I miss? Will it be the memory that puts a smile on my face? As I thought about it, I didn’t feel certain that it would. I think I’ll feel a certain sense of satisfaction and pride about those things, but I don’t know that they’ll be the pinnacle of what running was — or is — to me.
Zach Miller chasing big goals at the 2024 Transgrancanaria. Photo: The North Face
Instead, I think what I will remember is how running made me feel. I’ll remember how it gave me something to chase day in and day out, and how it was a practice in bettering myself.
I’ll remember early morning runs that started in the dark and gave me a front row seat to a forest that was coming alive for the day. I’ll remember the feeling of finding my groove and gliding along as if I could run forever. I’ll remember how new and exciting singletrack trails felt, especially in my early years. I’ll remember the discomfort of the uphill grind and the sweet release of transitioning into the descent. I’ll remember the feeling of a strong, fit body that powers through a climb and holds a strong tempo pace across undulating terrain. I’ll remember the joy of running with friends, the nerves going into a hard workout or race, and the body’s sigh of relief and euphoric state once it’s over.
I’ll remember sitting on my bike trainer in a heat suit, squeezed into my 60-square-foot short bus alongside a table, bed, kitchen, and bathroom, with the heat blasting, being able to pedal full revolutions without banging my knees into anything, grab nutrition from the kitchen counter, and refill water bottles from the sink without ever getting off my bike.
I’ll remember setting big goals and chasing big dreams, but somehow I feel — or hope — that whether or not I achieved them will sit secondary to the process of chasing them. Perhaps what I am saying is that what I hope I’ll remember most about running are the parts that were, as Rector says, a “steady love.”
Everything needed within reach for a heat session on the bike trainer in the bus.
As I continue running, I hope to practice this. I still want to chase goals and dreams. I still want to be competitive. I still want to dream. But as I do all of this, I also want to embrace the steady love. And perhaps in doing so, I’ll open myself up to chasing goals even harder. Not because I need them to be fulfilled, but because I’ll know that the important parts are not in achieving the goal, but in all that is experienced along the way.
Call for Comments
- In what parts of running do you find steady love?
- What running experiences stay in your memories?
