The Three Rs: Running, Writing, and Religion

Patrick Archbold at Creative Minority Report makes the witty (and true) observation that “there are just certain things about which most everybody claims expertise, even though the trade is rarely, if ever, plied.” Among these “certain things,” he notes, are writing, running, and religion — three subjects about which most people consider themselves expert, regardless of their actual experience. So, when he was a runner, he used to have this conversation with his acquaintances, a conversation most runners know well:

During my marathon years I was an evangelist of running. I badgered friends and co-workers that they should give running a try. I heard every possible excuse. Frequently people told me that their knees prevented them from running any kind of distance.

No they don't.

What do you mean? Yes they do!

If your knees hurt when you run, then you are doing it wrong.

My comment about "doing it wrong" often confused or even insulted people. "How could I be doing it wrong? I know how to run!", they would say. Asking how often they ran and how far, they would admit that they hadn't run since high school gym class. Why would otherwise intelligent people think that they know everything there is to know about something they hadn't done since childhood, and then only because they were forced….

It happens with religion all the time, too:

Chief among the subjects which people assume osmotic expertise is religion. So many times intelligent people, who admittedly have not picked up a book on religion since Confirmation or third grade Sunday school, argue with me over what the church teaches without the slightest bit of suitable humility or discomfiture.

I first read this a few months ago, and found the whole account pretty amusing. Now, reading it again from the standpoint of an injured runner with a bad knee, I find it convicting. I am a largely self-taught “convert” to running. I took it up a few years ago, and basically settled upon my technique, regimen, and approach to running on a largely trial-and-error basis. Sure, I looked at the magazines here and there, and even bought a few books, but I mostly skimmed them, took the advice I wanted to take, and ignored the rest.

Now I wonder: Might my injury have been preventable? Might I have done better to go more “by the book,” to have heeded the advice of experts who have come before me, rather than just thinking I could figure things out on my own?

And might not the same be true of my faith? As an adult “revert” — I was functionally a lapsed Catholic until age 25 — I never had much of a formal education in the Faith. Sure, I read books, listened to a lot of Catholic radio, and got advice from priests and others. But one thing I’ve never done is seek spiritual direction, assuming, I suppose, that I could “figure out” what it means to live the Christian life more or less on my own.

Maybe it’s time for me to be a little more “by the book” in this part of my life as well. Because experiencing something — and even loving it — does not in itself an expert make.