009 - Running Through Words
Finding inspiration in books, conversations, and the runs between
In my life, running and reading are twin companions. The first book I ever read about running was Haruki Murakami’s memoir — What I Talk About When I Talk About Running.
For Murakami, running is both exercise and metaphor, something that shapes his writing. His build up to the New York City Marathon, the grit, the mental and physical process, sensations, reflections. He reflects in the connection between running and creativity: “Most of what I know about writing I've learned through running every day.” — all of it connects deeply with me, not only as a runner but as a coach who celebrates the space between words, steps, and breathing.
While Murakami found the core of his writing in running, I find it in reading. Like running, reading pushes you to get deep farther into yourself, even if the process is quieter. People assume that because I write, I must plow through countless books each year.
But it’s not that simple.
My reading isn’t a numbers game. Actually, I think reading lots of books — like hundreds per year is totally overrated.
For me, it’s more about the pace, about stopping and reflecting in moments between lines, I’m a fan of more dispersed kinds of reading. The books I do read come in bits and blocks, just like the intervals fartleks or long runs I prescribe to my athletes.
Between the Lines
Growing up, I found big, thick novels a bit overwhelming. It’s hard for me to read a book in full and with presence of mind. Maybe I got burned out by being forced to read so many books I didn’t care about in school— like anaerobic intervals without recovery, leading you to fatigue and just uninspiring. Or maybe I’m just impatient to sit through 500 pages to then pick out the lesson.
When it comes to fiction, I’m not really into huge world-building—I prefer stand-alone novels with a solid, interesting idea at their heart. Crime and Punishment is actually one of my all-time favorites, even though I never finished it—I got the idea well enough without reading every page. For me, it's less about the plot and more about the psychology behind it, like a deep conversation with yourself.
So now, the kinds of books I read tend to be non-fiction— biographies, stylized narratives about real world events or analytical books (about how to think about and navigate life, people, work, etc.) those books that leave room for contemplation, nonfiction that invites conversation, and biographies that feel like close friends.
I read a lot about books and love watching authors talk about their writing process and the ideas they want to get across. I also get into reading book reviews to see what people are saying. For me, a book feels like one long conversation about a topic, but honestly, I’d rather have a bunch of shorter, wandering conversations that go off in different directions depending on who I’m talking to.
The beauty of short-form reading or small books is how it feels like the quick rhythms in a well-paced workout. I’m drawn to essays, articles, blog posts, and the countless pieces in The New Yorker, The Collab Fund, The Epsilon Theory, The Morning Shakeout, and so on.. They’re these quick hits of insight, like short workout buildups that let you dive into a topic without committing days to it. I think of them as “tiny books” — they stick with you and give your mind a workout, kind of like a speed workout for the brain.
I’m into these kinds of books because they’re closer to conversation and to the styles of conversation that I like — a mix of intelligent analysis about the world, work, and culture, with the ability to laugh at yourself and the universe.
The best thing about small books of any kind is that they’re incredibly efficient prompts for conversation.
Conversations
The best ideas are found in conversations, whether running with my friends and athletes, mentoring sessions, or face-to-face conversations with my coach. But also from conversations that take place on Instagram, X, Reddit, Youtube, letsrun.com, occasionally even TikTok. The best thing about these platforms is getting to hear all sorts of perspectives and connecting with people you’d probably never meet otherwise. Each one has its own vibe, its own power-users, and its own style of conversation (yes, sometimes for the worse). I’m way less interested in the original posts than in the comments that follow—text, images, and videos just spark the replies, comments, and all the shared links that come with them.
Some of the most interesting ideas for my own coaching philosophy have sparked during these type of conversations post-run coffee chats, the kind where you barely realize the run has ended because the conversation is still unfolding deeply. Not only in what’s said back and forth out loud, but in what I pick up between the lines of their opinions. I’m the kind of person that has to read very little into a conversation to spark a new idea make a connection, or remember something cool I want to dig into.
And face-to-face conversations make these sparks happen so much faster and with richer detail.
Then there are those online conversations which most of the times are zoom calls, often started by a link shared of my calendar with an athlete, coach, investor, friend or mentor. You never know where those will take you…
Links
I probably spend about 30 minutes to an hour a day following up on a link someone sent me. Could be anything—a Strava workout, a book review, a YouTube interview, a funny tweet, a viral TikTok, a spicy Instagram post, you name it.
Links from Rox usually nudge me to do something she’s been telling me to do (or to realize something she’s been trying to make me realize). Links from friends or athletes are usually shared references that are nostalgic or funny or topical or prompts for the thing they really want to hear your thoughts on.
Shared links are an endless loop of ideas that shape our approach to life, to work, and, of course, to running. They’re the tiny “intervals” in our day, quick moments of reflection or laughter that make up our endurance for life.
What Comes Next
The other day a friend ask if my plan was to ever write a book, for now it’s a dream. But yeah, totally. And what kind? I don’t really know. I need to figure out how to meld my shorter-form affinity with longer-form exploration. I see it as more than just a set of essays or training guides—it would be more like the flow of a good long run with a friend. I want it to feel natural, like ideas and insights just come up as we go.
Is Building Up! just a long book with each essay as one chapter? Maybe. But I don’t think I’ll just print out all the essays and staple them together and call it something new. More likely I’ll take one or two essays with themes that I have a lot more to say on and expand them into something deeper.
If some day I delve into fiction, the finished product will be a film rather than a book manuscript. I’ll probably be experimenting more with film in general — short-form and long-form.
(This is one of the reasons I’ve been procrastinating on starting a podcast or anything similar. I’ve been continuously beat over the head with the realization that doing too many things at once never quite works.)
When people ask me what I read, I struggle to answer. So this is the answer in speech (and a prelude to the kind of writing I may do in the future). But, yes, I need to sit down and spend time cataloguing some of my favorite things that I’ve read, no matter what form they presented themselves in — hopefully soon.
Unlike what I think a lot of people assume or aim for, I’m not out here reading tons of books. Instead, I’m more into picking up on the little details in conversations, however they come up. And as someone who writes, I’m starting to see writing as a way to spark conversation and conversation as fuel for more writing.
As a coach, I’m not just trying to shape runners but to help people who read life deeply, finding meaning not only in running but also in the moments and conversations we share along the way.
In the end, every single good idea I’ve had, whether for writing, coaching, building or something else, started off with a good conversation. Optimize your life for good conversations, and judge everything you read by how many good conversations it leads to.
Thank you for reading.
Luis.