The Long Silence: What We Discover About Ourselves During Hours of Solitude
Introduction: The Quiet That Changes Us
In endurance running, silence is never just silence. As the hours stretch and the miles unfold, the quiet becomes something far more complex—a mirror, a doorway, a maze. It strips away the surface layers of our consciousness, revealing thoughts, emotions, and memories we didn’t know we were carrying.
Some call it introspection. Others describe it as a dreamlike state, a liminal space where reality bends and our mind begins to wander into uncharted territory. It can be illuminating, unsettling, or both. But it’s always transformative.
This long silence is more than just a side effect of running for hours alone. It’s a defining element of the sport—one that, for better or worse, shapes the runner as much as the trail or the road itself.
Chapter 1: The Unearthing of Forgotten Memories
There’s a strange phenomenon that happens during long solo runs, especially in endurance events that push past the marathon mark. Out of nowhere, memories rise to the surface—snapshots of our past we didn’t even know we still carried. A childhood scene. A half-forgotten argument. A face from years ago. These moments aren’t triggered by anything obvious; they simply emerge, carried on the rhythm of footsteps and breath.
One runner described it as “opening a drawer in my brain that I didn’t know existed.” Running’s repetitive motion, combined with solitude, seems to unlock these hidden compartments of the mind. At times, these memories feel like gifts, reminders of people and moments we cherish. At other times, they are heavier, confronting us with unresolved emotions we thought we had left behind.
This unearthing isn’t just a curiosity—it’s an invitation. In the silence, we are offered the chance to revisit, reflect, and perhaps even make peace with the past.
Chapter 2: The Liminal State Between Wakefulness and Dreaming
For those who run long enough—especially in ultramarathons—there’s a point where reality begins to blur. It’s not sleep, but it’s not full wakefulness either. It’s a liminal state, where the conscious mind loosens its grip and the subconscious begins to play. In this state, the storytelling structure we use to define ourselves—the narratives of who we are and why we run—starts to dissolve.
In its place, thoughts and images emerge in a chaotic, unfiltered way. Some are beautiful, like an idea for a project or a sudden realization about a personal relationship. Others are nonsensical: flashes of color, fragments of sentences, or even dreams that seem to play out while our eyes are still open.
This state can feel disorienting, but it’s also profoundly human. It’s a reminder that beneath our carefully constructed identities lies something more fluid and creative—a mind capable of surprising itself.
Chapter 3: The Edge of Reality: Hallucinations and the Light of the Headlamp
In extreme cases, especially in ultras lasting 20 hours or more, the mind begins to slip further. Fatigue, isolation, and the hypnotic rhythm of running can give rise to mild hallucinations. Runners report seeing shadowy figures in the trees, mistaking rocks for animals, or imagining conversations that never happened. These hallucinations are usually harmless, but they are startling reminders of the fragile line between perception and reality.
At night, the experience becomes even more surreal. Alone on a dark trail, the beam of your headlamp becomes your entire world. The pool of light moves with you, casting shadows and shapes that feel almost alive. After hours of this, it’s easy to become hypnotized by your own light, as if you’re following a guide rather than navigating yourself. One ultrarunner described it as “dancing with my shadow—it was eerie and beautiful at the same time.”
Chapter 4: The Amplification of Emotion
The silence of a long run doesn’t just unlock memories or dreams; it amplifies emotions. The smallest joys—a sunrise, the crunch of leaves underfoot—can feel transcendent. A moment of kindness from a fellow runner can bring tears to your eyes.
But the flip side is just as potent. A minor discomfort—a drop in temperature, a misplaced water bottle—can spiral into deep frustration. Fatigue can make even the most resilient runner question everything, from their decision to enter the race to their worth as an athlete.
This amplification is part of what makes long-distance running so emotionally raw. Without the usual distractions of daily life, we feel everything more intensely, for better or worse. And yet, these heightened emotions are not a distortion—they’re a reflection of our humanity in its purest form.
Chapter 5: Questioning Everything
In the depths of a long run, it’s not uncommon for the mind to turn on itself. Why am I doing this? What’s the point? Couldn’t I spend these hours doing something more productive—learning a skill, spending time with my family, or just resting?
These questions, though uncomfortable, are natural. Running, especially over long distances, strips away the ego-driven justifications we use to explain our actions. What’s left is a confrontation with the core of why we run. The answers may not always be satisfying, but the act of questioning itself is a reminder that running is more than a physical act—it’s a dialogue with the self.
Chapter 6: Nostalgia, Orbit, and Perspective
Long-distance running often evokes a profound sense of homesickness—nostalgia for loved ones, familiar comforts, or the warmth of connection. In the middle of a lonely trail, even the smallest reminders of home can feel overwhelming. Yet, paradoxically, once we return, we realize that we were never truly far away. Life at home continues, steady and unchanging, while we orbited like satellites, drawn momentarily into the gravity of our own journey.
This phenomenon, reminiscent of the time distortion in Interstellar, highlights the strange way endurance running warps our perception of time and space. The world we left behind feels distant during the run, only to snap back into focus the moment we stop.
Conclusion: Embracing the Variations of the Silence
The long silence of endurance running is not uniform—it’s a kaleidoscope of memories, emotions, and perceptions that shift and evolve with every mile. Whether it’s the resurfacing of forgotten memories, the surreal beauty of a headlamp beam in the forest, or the amplified joy of a sunrise, these experiences are all part of the game. They are the price of admission to the deeper layers of what it means to be human.
And they are normal. The disorientation, the questions, the heightened emotions—all of it is a natural response to hours spent in solitude and physical exertion. As one Ironman spectator’s sign cheekily reminded: “Keep in mind, you paid for this.”
In the end, the silence is not something to fear or avoid. It’s something to embrace. Because in that silence, we don’t just discover what it means to run—we discover what it means to be alive.
5 Books to Explore the Depths of Silence and Solitude
1. The Inner Game of Tennis by W. Timothy Gallwey
A classic on mental focus, this book explores how to quiet the mind and perform with presence. Its lessons on silencing self-doubt and embracing the moment are deeply applicable to runners navigating the silence.
2. The Untethered Soul: The Journey Beyond Yourself by Michael A. Singer
This philosophical guide helps readers observe their thoughts without judgment, much like what happens in the long silence of a run. It’s a manual for understanding the chatter of the mind and finding freedom from it.
3. Behave: The Biology of Humans at Our Best and Worst by Robert Sapolsky
This deep dive into human behavior explores why we react the way we do under stress, fatigue, and isolation. It’s a fascinating companion for anyone curious about the mental and emotional shifts of endurance running.
4. Into the Wild by Jon Krakauer
A profound exploration of solitude, purpose, and the desire to test one’s limits. While not about running, its themes resonate deeply with the existential questions that arise in long-distance efforts.
5. Silence: In the Age of Noise by Erling Kagge
Written by an explorer who has spent weeks alone in some of the world’s most desolate places, this book is a meditation on the power of silence. It’s an ideal companion for runners who crave introspection.