Forms of Steadfast Willpower

On my website, I’ve written:

“When steadfast willpower is lacking, there is music and technology.”

I’ve realized that this statement, based on my personal experience, may come across as inappropriate to readers who have no experience with addiction. For this healthier and undoubtedly larger part of humanity, it might even be confusing. Therefore, I’ll try to explain this paradox for them as well, especially if they’re drawn to the number of kilometers I’ve run.

A healthy reader, to run such distances, must not only have an unhindered physical body but also a certain degree of willpower. So, they might think: What is he trying to tell me here? They are likely proud of their steadfast willpower and the notion that music and technology could replace it seems nonsensical.

From this perspective, I must admit I have an odd advantage: I’m a recovering alcoholic. And like many who’ve faced such challenges, I don’t naturally possess a great deal of willpower. Crucially, however, I’ve never smoked, which is fortunate. Summing it up, I paradoxically have one advantage over healthier individuals. It’s as if I have a reserve strength that can substitute for willpower.

I cannot stress enough the most essential component: music. For everything to work properly, a runner must have a very strong relationship with music. About 9% of the population suffers from what’s called amusia, which makes it difficult for them to perceive music. Most people love music, and those who don’t usually belong to the group of the musically deprived – something I consider to be a great loss for them. This group often underestimates music and its influence on life. The profound relationship with music can be recognized when it occasionally moves a person to tears. With regular engagement, 91% of the population can reach this state. However, I believe this requires an appreciation for classical music. Genres like techno or hip-hop seem to lead listeners toward external drugs rather than introspective experiences.

During the memorable summer of 2013, I started running with music. Within a week, I swapped my “fuel” – white wine – for endorphins, endocannabinoids, and dopamine. It felt like the moment when a spaceship traveling to a distant galaxy uses the gravitational pull of a giant star to accelerate dramatically. Similarly, I was drawn by the gravity of addiction but then propelled forward by the synergy of movement and music. Along with this came the joy of outsmarting my body and steering it in the right direction. As I’ve read, many ultra-runners have also experienced periods of substance abuse in their lives.

To illustrate, imagine what an addict is willing to do to get their drug. As we all know, they may even commit murder. In my case, salvation lies in movement combined with music. This powerful combination has been recognized throughout human history, as evidenced by its use in many religions. Since that transformative year of 2013, I’ve been reminded of this incredible strength every day, much to my amazement. I hope the magic lasts long enough for me to run around the Earth a second time, just like Emil Zátopek.