Back in high school, I subscribed myself to dictionary.com’s “Word of the Day.” Call me a nerd, but I loved learning new ways to express my thoughts and the world around me. I liked looking at the root of words and the genealogy of where they came from. I probably also had a little bit of a know-it-all mentality of “Hey, look at this new, fancy word I know.” Regardless, I looked forward to checking my email for this “Word of the Day.”

One of those words I came across was anoesis. Anoesis is a state of mind consisting of pure sensation or emotion without cognitive content. By my definition, I would say anoesis is basically like zoning out — something I do a lot of, especially when I’m running. It may seem contradictory to the sport, especially when running a workout or race where strategic thinking seems essential to good performance. But I fell in love with running and got my best results through this state of anoesis.

It’s refreshing, almost euphoric, to have the freedom to put my mind on pause for a moment of time. On runs, I would abandon my thoughts to the crunching of leaves beneath my feet, how fresh the air felt on chillier mornings or how the trees diffused sun rays onto my face. Even during my most successful races, I wouldn’t necessarily be thinking, “I have to get to the finish line as soon as I can,” although that was the goal. It’s actually hard to recount what was going through my head on those good days, mostly because I don’t think much was going on up there. I know what I wasn’t doing: overthinking. Instead of worrying if I started a race too fast, I remember enjoying the synchronized feeling between my legs and arms. Instead of being overwhelmed by the monstrous hill I was running up, I remember being satisfied with how my feet felt, pushing off the surface, bringing me closer to the top.

Probably the best thing I wasn’t thinking about was breathing. When I get anxious, it doesn’t seem like there’s enough air to fill my lungs. And when I’m anxious while running, that feeling is multiplied by 100 and I begin to hyperventilate. But when I don’t fixate on any of that, I can forget the discomfort and quietly honor the rhythm of my breath.
I guess in a way, I have to zone out in order to zone in. But maybe I’m not approaching it correctly. Maybe if I put more effort into thinking, I’d be a better runner. But something that definitely doesn’t work is thinking too much. Running is a sport that triggers a fight-or-flight response. Cortisol and adrenaline levels, hormones responsible for stress, rise in the bloodstream. Thinking about this stress is a recipe for disaster. It’s like trying to move in quicksand: the more you squirm, the deeper you sink. So, for now, I’ll continue to slip into anoesis.