No Amount of Yoga or Perseverence Will Allow Me to Run

I have a tendency to stare overlong at the many runners who come to my picturesque wooded lakeside neighborhood for their daily exercise. I watch the ones for whom running comes so naturally, with their long effortless strides, their upright posture, the unmistakable light in their eyes. I envy these runners, for their gracefulness and obvious pleasure in strenuous physical movement. I watch the ones for whom running obviously does not come naturally, with their stiff and shuffling steps, their hunched backs, the unmistakable grimace on their faces. I identify with these runners, because even though I cannot run even at their decidedly unswift speeds, I know what it feels like to have every step require a recommitment of the will to embrace momentary pain in the service of long-term health and well-being.

To put it most simply, I want to run, and I can’t. I never have. And I probably never will. A lifelong bone disorder, accompanied in my middle age by osteoporosis and arthritis, has led to problems with my gait, strength, and joint alignment that make running an impossibility.

A video about learning to run is making the Facebook rounds, and for good reason. Arthur Boorman, a Gulf War veteran, explains in the video that too many hard landings in his role as a paratrooper left him with back and knee injuries. His doctors told him he would never walk unassisted again. Overweight, sedentary, and using crutches for mobility, Boorman eventually decided to take up a form of yoga. In six months, he not only lost more than 100 pounds, but learned to walk unassisted….and to run.

My first thought on seeing this video was, “I wonder if I could learn to run by applying myself as diligently as this man did to yoga (or whatever)?” My second thought was, “How is this video going to feed our often damaging, certainly false cultural notion that impairments can be overcome by willpower, perseverence, and hard work, which leads to the even more damaging notion that those who are impaired or in pain have no one to blame but themselves?”

Arthur Boorman’s story is remarkable, and he deserves every smidgen of good will and admiration he receives for reclaiming his body’s strength and abilities through hard physical work and determination, day after day. In our culture, where sedentary lifestyles, poor nutrition, and excess weight exacerbate and even cause many impairments and illnesses, many of us need to hear the message this video offers—that doing the hard work of exercise and weight loss can do wonders to transform our physical and mental health.

I know that losing 10 pounds would lessen the pressure on my arthritic joints. I know firsthand the paradox of coping with arthritis pain, which is that keeping oneself moving and active goes a long way toward mitigating pain and disability, even though activity can make joints hurt more in the short term.

But I also know that no amount of yoga or swimming or weight training or walking will allow me to learn to run, or even to walk without some amount of pain. And I am all too familiar with our cultural tendency to insist that optimal health is only a yoga practice or nutritional supplement or strict diet away, and thus to ignore the reality that some people’s bodies are impaired in ways that cannot be fixed. Anyone living with some type of chronic condition has had the experience of well-meaning friends (or even strangers) offering advice that so completely denies the reality of our condition it is laughable. For those of us who have OI (my bone disorder), this advice often takes the form of, “Have you tried taking calcium supplements or drinking more milk?” The food-as-medicine fix is a popular one these days, as this or that superfood or supplement or something-free diet is touted as having miraculous curative qualities for whatever ails you.

Then there are those who are skeptical of any and all traditional medical intervention, who insist that a particular diet or exercise or meditation practice is the magic bullet. I have had conversations with folks who say they “don’t believe” in taking medication, as if medications are magic potions offered by hucksters rather than compounds with proven beneficial effects. Sorry folks, but your sour cherries have got nothing on my opioid patch when it comes to relieving my arthritis pain.

And finally, there is a significant population of people who firmly believe that regular, strenuous exercise is the key to overall health and well-being. To an extent, of course, they are right. The benefits of exercise, from feel-good endorphins to healthy weight maintenance, muscle strength, better balance, and lower blood pressure, are myriad. But some devotees of regular exercise come across as simply unable to sympathize with those for whom the barriers to strenuous exercise go far beyond braving the cold on a winter morning run or dealing with the occasional pain of a pulled muscle. One day when I was getting my hair cut, some women in the salon were complaining to each other about their various exercise-related injuries. My stylist, who also happens to be my neighbor and friend, bent down and whispered in my ear, “Does it drive you nuts to hear healthy people complaining about their aches and pains?” Yes, as a matter of fact. Yes, it does.

Arthur Boorman’s story of transformation is incredible and deserving of the attention it is receiving. His story has been on my mind this week, as I have needed inspiration to take the dog for a walk each morning, even when my aching joints and warm house make the prospect unsavory. I will keep on going on those daily walks with the dog, and swimming laps a few times a week, motivated largely by my after-swim stretch in the hot tub, where weightlessness and heat provide some of the only completely pain-free moments of my day.

But I am pretty sure I will never learn to run, no matter how many walks or swims or Pilates routines I do. And I hope that those are inspired by Arthur Boorman’s video will applaud his efforts without also assuming that all that is preventing people living with chronic pain and impairments from being able to walk and run and function like everyone else is their own unwillingness to take on the hard work of transformation.

Many of us actually take on that hard work every day, with resulting transformations that are far less dramatic and noticeable than Boorman’s. These small transformations—my going a bit farther on each day’s dog walk, for example—don’t make for inspirational videos, but they are still meaningful.



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Finding Common Ground on Abortion: An Interview with Charles Camosy
Natural Family Planning Isn’t the Only Ethical Option for Christians: Why I Chose an IUD
About Ellen Painter Dollar

Ellen Painter Dollar is a writer focusing on faith, parenting, family, disability, and ethics. She is the author of No Easy Choice: A Story of Disability, Faith, and Parenthood in an Age of Advanced Reproduction (Westminster John Knox, 2012). Visit her web site at for more on her writing and speaking, and to sign up for a (very) occasional email newsletter.

  • Rachel Marie Stone

    Oh, the calcium supplements and the milk. Tell that one to me when my child is still taking narcotics for the pain of a spiral tib-fib fracture after an ordinary fall. ;)

    • Rachel Marie Stone

      (Which is, to be clear, not right now: we have been fracture free, knock on wood, for a while. But your point is such a good one. We do live in a culture that regards the possibilities of self-improvement as essentially endless, given unlimited supplies of money and free time and Personal Responsibility.)

      • DaveP

        > … we have been fracture free, knock on wood …

        I just knocked on wood, and fractured my knuckle.


  • Amy Corley

    This strikes a chord in me, not because of personal experience, but because of what I watch my Mom go through each day. She suffers from back pain due to an injury long ago, and she also experiences daily, chronic pain from fibromyalgia. My Mom is in her late 50′s and she lives with me and my family, so I have the opportunity to see how she deals with her pain first hand. She relies on yoga and swimming, as you do, and that part about the hot tub after the workout? She says the same thing. She also eats well and at various times has tried to be more focused on a diet to specifically help her deal with fibromyalgia. What I wanted to say is that I see in my Mom’s life, in her daily perseverance through pain, her willingness to walk and do yoga and swim even though it HURTS, a victory every bit as glorious and worth celebrating as the man whose video you wrote about. I celebrate you, my Mom and all others who walk a little farther each day, and who keep moving, even through the pain.

  • Tim

    Those small transformations you describe are truly meaningful, Ellen, as successes that help you move (literally and figuratively) from one day to the next. And the physical realities you describe are also meaningful as metaphors for our spiritual realities. No amount of working harder or following well-meaning advice or keeping to a set of rules will heal us from our spiritual infirmities. that healing is found only in Christ. (Rev. 22:2.)

    Thanks for helping me think about these things today.


  • Jeannie

    The last part of your post about small transformations made me think of this poem which I recently read:

    A Rainy Morning

    A young woman in a wheelchair,
    wearing a black nylon poncho spattered with rain,
    is pushing herself through the morning.
    You have seen how pianists
    sometimes bend forward to strike the keys,
    then lift their hands, draw back to rest,
    then lean again to strike just as the chord fades.
    Such is the way this woman
    strikes at the wheels, then lifts her long white fingers,
    letting them float, then bends again to strike
    just as the chair slows, as if into a silence.
    So expertly she plays the chords
    of this difficult music she has mastered,
    her wet face beautiful in its concentration,
    while the wind turns the pages of rain.
    ~ Ted Kooser ~

  • nancy

    As a physician who works with children and families with bone fragility probems and other metabolic bone diseases that result in chronic pain, deformity and poor growth, I appreciate so much the message you provide. It was an important reminder to me as a doctor who spends time telling patients to “maximize vit D and calcium intake” to recognize and celebrate the daily achievements of my patients, and the incredible effort that entails. Thank you.

  • Eating as a Path to Yoga

    Body Size (thin or fat) is rarely, if ever, an indicator of health.