Running Helped Me Write My Master's Thesis...It Might Help You, Too
Originally published at Chegg.com
I used to be an English professor. Before that, I was a student in a Masters of Fine Arts program in creative writing (nonfiction, if you were wondering). That means I had to write a master’s thesis. Essentially, I had to write a book, and I had T-minus two semesters in which to write it.
This was a long time ago, back when the sitcom 30 Rock was releasing new episodes (2013-14, if you’re counting). There’s one episode in which the character Jack Donaghy (a high-level executive at the NBC network played by Alec Baldwin) is hunting for his next moneymaking idea. He explains his method of “innoventing”—a term he just “innovented”—to his mentee, head writer of sketch comedy TV show and all-around mess, Liz Lemon (Tina Fey).
You might guess that at this period in my life, I identified with Liz Lemon hard. She, too, is strapped for ideas and on a hard deadline with other creatives who give ambiguous feedback. She—and I—were all ears for Jack Donaghy’s “Shower Principle.”
He claims this concept is responsible for “moments of inspiration that occur when the brain is distracted from the problem at hand–for example, when you’re showering.”
You’re probably wondering: is this professor telling me to take life advice from an old-timey sitcom?
The answer is, kind of. Although it’s not hard science, the episode makes an appearance on one neuroscience professor’s blog. They say, of the “Shower Principle”: “After discussing multiple intelligences and the specialization of different parts of the brain, I am wondering if the number of neurons firing across the connectome sometimes causes interference which is what causes these lapses in memory or innovative cognitive power.” In laymen’s terms, new brain activity distracts one part of the brain so the part responsible for “sudden cognitive inspiration” can really shine through.
Again, that might not be hard science, but every good idea has come to me when I’m in the middle of something else, like washing dishes, driving, showering, or running—namely, when I can’t write it down.
Hold on to the “Shower Principle” right quick while I introduce another phenomenon that will later help me support my point.
Another pattern I noticed was that I could write better at night. I’m not especially a night owl, but that golden hour between 11:30-12:30 was always when I got the most words on the page. After talking to several of my friends in the coding world, they agreed that they worked best at night, too. It wasn’t only because there were fewer people slowing down the server, fewer distractions, and better-lit screens, although all of that helped.
It was mostly because they were tired. That’s anecdotal, I know, but there’s science to be had here, as well: According to assistant psychiatry professor Brant Hasler (and paraphrased well at becomeabetterprogrammer.com): “Your body experiences a drop in body temperature and a rise in melatonin towards the end of the day…. With an increase in the sleep drive, your brain is less inclined towards divergent thinking. As a result, you can make new associations between various concepts better and more easily, which equates to more flexible thinking.
I’ve introduced two concepts:
you can get to ideas better when you’re distracted by mundane tasks
when your brain is tired, it focuses more easily
The key words here are “mundane” and “tired.” I can think of no task more mundane and tiring than running, especially if you’re running the same path for a long stretch.
That’s not an insult at running, by the way: if you’re track and field star, running isn’t the same distraction for you as it is for an academic accustomed to sitting in front of a laptop in a tiny, dim apartment. If you’re a track and field star, running is your focus.
But if you’re a normal person, a semi-athletic non-runner, the focus while running is simply continuing.
If I have all my best epiphanies while I was busy, and my brain works better when I’m tired, running is a great solution for staging both of those environments.
I did have to get strategic about it, though. I’d have to go at just the right time in my writing process. I needed to get as far as I could with an idea. I’d “write myself into a corner” as we like to say, I’d write till I got stuck. And when I couldn’t break through the log jam, I’d lace up my shoes and go run.
It didn’t work right away. I had to really catch my stride—nothing happened in the first two miles. After that, I was tired. I couldn’t focus on my breathing or footfall, I just had to keep going, one foot after the other, and that’s when my brain activity would straighten itself out. I’d mull over the concepts that wouldn’t connect for me, carry out every thread of an idea until it unraveled, and then with the ideas disentangled, I could see more clearly what I was working with.
Then, I’d have a realization of how two or more of those worked together—because I couldn’t write it down. I had to focus on keeping that idea as I finished up my run, and sometimes, again because my brain was tired, because I had to delay, I’d have to mull it over and over until it became more easily to handle.
So, if you get yourself stuck in the writing process, my advice is, if you’re able, go for a run. Go wear yourself out so you can start thinking straight again.
And if you’re wondering whether I used this tactic while I was writing this essay, you can be sure that I did.
If this story stayed with you, you might also like:
→ Author Talk for Dunedin Public Library True Crime Book Club
→ Author Talk at Warren County Public Library https://www.marykaymcbrayer.com/talks/v/j8ha632hw33lkwd35c4rrt6k2gb939
→Crime Writers Week https://www.marykaymcbrayer.com/talks/v/planet-earth-mejnx-gxhec-h2w7n-2sdsg
Tags:
[craftofwriting, filmandliterature] | [classicliterature]
