It had been raining all night, so I didn’t get to go on the
trails, but was stuck on the greenbelt sidewalk. Listening to Crosby, Stills,
and Nash, on Pandora, I thought about Plato’s Cave Allegory. (If you’re a
visual type, I’ve included links to two illustrations of the cave.)
Basically, the cave sets up an understandably unreal
situation in which a group chained in a cave is deceived into thinking the shadows
of puppets created by a fire are real men. One escapes and sees the sun and
real humans. When he returned to the cave to try to tell the others that
everything they know is false, they won’t believe him. In fact, they become
downright belligerent.
I was always critical of this story for two reasons because
, 1) of the elitist position that it was trying to establish—that Socrates
alone knew the truth and 2) that the escapee didn’t return to lead those who in
the cave out, but to convince them while they were in the cave that he knew
better than they. Now, I realize that’s a harsh reading of the Allegory of the
Cave. I didn’t realize how hard I was being on Plato until I started running.
I’m sure you have had a similar experience to mine. Tell
someone about endurance running. I’m not trying to convert them or convince
them that they should take up running. But, before I’ve gotten very far they
start to give me all the reasons they don’t take up running: a bum knee,
sciatica, they can’t get up that early, they’ve heard weight lighting is better
(even though they don’t have a gym membership.)
Me, I’m just trying to tell them about the experience.
That’s something we’ve all felt too. I won’t try to describe it because I know I can't do it justice. I just know
when I’m out trail running, I’m out of the cave. I’m in the real.