I expected this book to be a memoir about ultra running and yes, there is a lot of running in Katie Arnold’s Running Home—but this is really a book about life; running is just Arnold’s way of processing and coming to terms with, as she puts it, “the jolting, destablizing shocks” of her own life. Running may give Arnold’s book its energy and organizing theme, but her clear, beautifully candid reflections on death, doubt, fear and grief give it a beating heart.
The memoir is loosely organized in two parts. The first chronicles Arnold’s childhood and life before she made the leap to ultrarunning: her earliest memories of the breakdown of her parents’ marriage and her years of shuttling between their homes in New Jersey and rural Virginia with her older sister; her conflicted but loving relationship with her father, the spirit of adventure she inherited from him, and then his sudden cancer diagnosis and death; and the crippling bouts of postpartum anxiety and grief that followed. “There is never any end to the fears,” she writes. “The trick is to move toward them, not away. Running is as good a way as any to try.”
Armed with this resolve, Arnold shifts the second part of Running Home to her pursuit of ultrarunning—her physical and mental training for the grueling 50k, 50 mile, 100k amd 100 mile distances and the toll this takes on her body, her marriage and her family. This part of the book—and particularly Arnold’s riveting accounts of her first 50k race and her Grand Canyon Rim to Rim to Rim run—was fascinating to me (whose idea of a long run is five miles) and gave me insight into what it takes to push your mind and body to their absolute limits. It’s worth noting here as well that, as you might expect from a former editor and writer at Outside magazine, there is beautiful nature writing throughout Running Home, but particularly so in this part of the book, when Arnold describes the scenery on her long mountain training runs.
Running Home is a book that will be relatable and appealing to so many people—runners, of course, but also children of divorce; those who have fought their own battles with anxiety; mothers trying to balance work and family life with their own passions; and those who have experienced the death of a loved one. (I lost my own beloved father to cancer the same year as Katie, and her descriptions of her grief were among the most viscerally relatable I’ve ever read.) The publisher’s blurb likened Running Home to Helen Macdonald’s H is for Hawk but, while I understand that comparison, it reminded me more of Hope Jahren’s memoir Lab Girl. I loved them all, though, so I’m happy to let it go at that.
Many thanks to Random House and NetGalley for providing me with an ARC of this book in exchange for my honest review.