In his forthcoming book, *The Running Ground: A Father, a Son, and the Simplest of Sports*, Nicholas Thompson, a tech journalist and CEO of The Atlantic, offers a thoughtful and intimate exploration of his lifelong passion for running. Scheduled for publication on October 28, 2025, by Random House, the book delves into the profound simplicity of running and how it has shaped Thompson’s understanding of himself and his place in the world. Through a blend of personal reflection and insightful observation, Thompson illuminates running not just as exercise, but as a meditative practice, a mental challenge, and a powerful metaphor for life’s rhythms and struggles.
At its core, running is the simplest of sports. Thompson describes it in its most elemental form: right foot, left foot, right foot. Unlike many other sports, running requires no equipment beyond a pair of shoes and no opponents to contend with directly. There is no ball to chase, no complex rules to remember, and no immediate physical confrontation with others. This simplicity, however, opens the door to a deep complexity — one that lies within the runner’s mind and body. When running, the focus inevitably turns inward. The external distractions fade, leaving the runner alone with their thoughts and sensations, fully immersed in the rhythm of movement.
Thompson captures this experience vividly, describing how running strips life down to its essentials. The less gear you wear, the faster you run; the lighter your shoes, the freer your feet feel. As speed increases, so does a sense of mental clarity. At a certain point, the mind empties, and all that remains is the pure sensation of each foot striking the pavement. It’s a moment where mind and body briefly merge into one seamless experience. While external factors like the weather—wind, rain, heat—can influence the run, the presence of other people rarely complicates the experience. Running is often a solitary pursuit, granting a unique form of control and independence. You don’t need to go to a gym or a field; you just step outside your door. Successes and failures are your own, unmediated by teammates or opponents. This direct relationship with one’s performance makes running a stark mirror for the aging body, too. The decline of physical ability is undeniable and measurable, displayed plainly on a runner’s watch or in their pace over time.
For Thompson, running is also a form of meditation. He puts on his shoes, connects his watch to satellites, and sets out with the aim of disconnecting from the mental clutter that often swirls inside his head. Alone on the trail or the city streets, he focuses on a variety of mental mantras to anchor himself. Sometimes it’s a rhythmic counting of steps—“one-two-three, one-two-three”—to maintain symmetrical footfalls. Other times, he centers his awareness on his breathing or the sounds around him, like the song of blue jays in the Catskills or the rumble of trucks on a busy urban street. Yet, as with all meditative practices, his attention sometimes drifts, wandering like a stream that collects random thoughts before depositing them aside.
Running workouts present a different challenge altogether. Rather than opening the mind, Thompson seeks to close it completely. The distractions of nature and city life must be shut out to maintain focus. When running with a partner, he concentrates on their shoulder or breath, depending on whether he is behind or ahead. Often running solo, he invents imaginary competitors, racing against a woman in a purple sweatshirt or a cyclist blasting jazz music. He monitors his pace carefully, pushing through discomfort by acknowledging pain but refusing to let it dominate. Self-doubt, he notes, is a persistent ember, and one that must be smothered during intense training. Habits matter profoundly in running, and quitting once can make it easier to quit again. Thus, mental resilience is as crucial as physical conditioning.
Interestingly, Thompson chooses not to listen to music while running. For him, running is both a physical and mental discipline, where the goal is to deepen the understanding of the body’s movements, breath, and pace. Music, with its distracting basslines and adrenaline-pumping beats, can interfere with this delicate internal communication. He prefers silence or the natural sounds around him, using the experience as a way to cultivate a more intimate relationship with his own body.
Marathon racing, Thompson explains, requires a particularly disciplined mental approach. Early in a race, the