The Earth Is My Treadmill: A Personal Approach to Mindful Running

I don’t use meditation apps. I haven’t taken any formal mindfulness courses. I’ve never been to a retreat or followed a guru. But I run. And when I’m out there, something shifts.

Most of the time I’m alone, just me and my dog, Goat. No headphones. No phone. Just the sound of my breath and the rhythm of our footsteps on the trail.

Somewhere along the way, I started doing this thing. It wasn’t intentional. It just happened. I’d be running, probably lost in some thought about work or parenting or whatever else was chewing on my brain, and then I’d catch myself. In that moment, I’d flip my perspective.

Instead of thinking about myself running forward, I’d imagine the earth rotating beneath my feet. Like I was stationary, and the planet was carrying me along for the ride.

That little shift changes everything. For a moment, I feel completely present. The usual noise in my head quiets down. My body feels aligned with the ground. I stop resisting the motion and let it happen. I stop trying to get somewhere and just exist with what is.

It might sound strange, but it works. At least for me.

I didn’t learn this from a book. No one taught me how to do it. It came from spending enough time moving through the world to notice how much of that movement is mental. Sometimes the trick isn’t to push harder. Sometimes it’s just to look at things differently.

That shift doesn't last forever. Sometimes it only lasts a minute. Sometimes I forget to do it altogether. And sometimes it’s just a regular run, with sweat, sore legs, and Goat diving headfirst into something he shouldn’t. But when I do remember to shift, the whole run feels different. I feel different.

I’m not saying this is mindfulness in the textbook sense. I don’t really care what it’s called. What matters is that it brings me into the moment. Not in a performative way, not to impress anyone, but in a way that feels quiet and real.

Maybe it’s a trick of the mind. Or maybe it’s a way of remembering that we are not separate from the world. We are part of it. Moving and being moved. Running and being carried.

For me, that’s enough.

Kirk Aug

Kirk is a writer, beekeeper and a fellow traveller on spaceship Earth. Follow Kirk on instagram @kirkaug