Why does the Wall Street Journal hate running?

Why does the Wall Street Journal hate running?

Headlines over the past two years suggest a pattern of editorial bias against endurance sports, which, they claim, cause damage to the heart, both literally and figuratively. The May 24 WSJ article, which called marathon training the “exercise equivalent of a cheeseburger,” was only one article in a string that goes back to February of 2011, where the WSJ enumerated the marital tribulations of a triathlete-in-training called, “A Workout Ate My Marriage.” This was followed nine months later by an article, “One Running Shoe in the Grave,” which brought to light the potentially deadly consequences of running in older athletes.

Journalists regularly generate buzz by undermining previously held assumptions with new, groundbreaking research that would turn the existing status quo on its head.  The Wall Street Journal isn’t wrong — running isn’t without peril — but its agenda may be misguided.  Without a doubt there is some truth to their claims.  After all, double blind scientific studies rarely lie and it is indisputable that on the outer reaches of endurance culture, as in anything, there are notorious examples of individuals in thrall to the sirens of self-destruction.

Author and renowned sports psychologist Dr. Jerry Lynch recounts a story of a budding world-class triathlete.  His wife gave him an ultimatum, asking him to choose between his training and his family.  He chose training, and promptly moved out.

But for most endurance athletes and certainly for society at large, training too much and alienating friends and family isn’t a problem.

The average male runner completes the marathon in 4:26, the average female in 4:52, which translates to just over a six-minute and seven-minute-per-kilometre pace respectively.  Not exactly a land speed record.  In order to prepare for the marathon, the median athlete will run on average between 40K and 50K  per week — again, hardly extreme.  The minority of athletes who do choose to ramp up their weekly mileage beyond the middle of the pack marathoner are not only probably beyond the reach of mainstream sensibilities but are also apt to be more concerned with going fast than any adverse effects on their heart, relationship or lifespan.

In the grand scheme of things, endurance sports aren’t dangerous; fast food is, and as the ranks of the obese and sedentary fill emergency rooms across the country, the potential health consequences of training for a marathon or a triathlon or even a long walk, versus sitting on the couch eating Cheetos is well documented.

What is becoming increasingly evident is that human beings are hard wired to move and that the consequences for failing to adhere to this biological imperative are not limited to increased girth and a decreased lifespan, but may be adversely affecting our ability to think and lead productive lives. Something, one might have assumed, that the Wall Street Journal would be concerned about.  Breaking research, discussed at a recent symposium on brain science in Arlington, Virginia, suggests that our ancient ancestors, moved at least 14 miles a day and that a life spent sitting largely immobile in a chair may be directly responsible for ADHD in children and widespread depression in adults.

The marathon has deep roots in Western culture, and the ability to endure hardship is a deeply Canadian expression of national character.  When Terry Fox was forced to withdraw just short of Thunder Bay, absent was any hue or cry seeking to condemn his dream as reckless, much less unhealthy or extreme.  In fact, a large part of the reason that Fox is revered and admired 30-years on is that his dogged spirit projected traits that Canadians have come to see as their own; modesty, endurance and the quiet marque of defiance.

Everyone dies but, according to the Ancient Greeks, the architects of marathon mythology, the main purpose of this life shouldn’t be about the prevention of death, much less the undue prolongation of life, but about how we wish to live.