Good Training

In my teens and first years of college, two of my leading preoccupations were running track and writing. The running required much training, which meant time alone on the track, or huffing up and down steep hills, or long meditative road work. Writing called for its own training as well, though it was less structured. Mostly I scoured published poems and novels for anything that excited my creativity and then did my best to emulate those pieces in my own stuff, usually unsuccessfully. In fact, I had far more noticeable success on the track, and had the ribbons and trophies to prove it.

Nonetheless, I already knew my life would be focused on the arts and not athletics. For one, I was a sprinter, and wasn’t sure I had the raw speed necessary to compete at higher and higher levels. But there was also the issue of winning and losing. By the time I was a sophomore in college, I was starting to experience some philosophical grumblings about the value of crossing the finish line first.

This was the same time I had gotten the idea of combining literature and theater. I thought it would be cool to somehow perform my favorite poems and passages from books and plays in a kind of show, what I imagined as a cross between performance art and standup comedy. One day, I was on a particularly long run, and I found myself thinking about this show. I recalled a favorite passage from Faulkner’s The Sound and the Fury: No battle is ever won, it began. They are never even fought. The field only reveals to us our own folly and despair, and victory is an illusion of philosophers and fools.

I began reciting the passage in my mind over and over as I trained for the races I was increasingly less interested in running. I did not think it odd at the time that I should be drawn to that quote. I saw no connection between what I was doing and what I was thinking. I was just out there on the road alone, chasing what I wanted.

If you like the ideas and perspectives expressed here, feel free to contact me about individual coaching and group workshops.

Everyone Has What It Takes: A Writer’s Guide to the End of Self-Doubt
You can find William at: williamkenower.com