Rarely do "writing" and "exercise" appear as the main topics for a memoir--there's something almost un-writerly about working out. Aren't all the great novelists supposed to be drunks? Well, no. Murakami compares running marathons to writing novels, and it's a damn fine analogy. His prose is masterly yet humble. Whether you're a writer, a runner, or just someone who enjoys a good book, Murakami delvers with "What I Talk About When I Talk About Running."

Murakami, 58, authored 15+ novels, many highly acclaimed. He has received many literary awards and honorary doctorates. I have read and thoroughly enjoyed most of his best selling works (including my favorites: Kafka on the Shore, Norwegian Wood and A Wild Sheep Chase). In reading this book, I had come to learn that Murakami had completed 25+ marathons, 1 ultra marathon (60+miles) and 5+ triathlons - this is a truly extraordinary accomplishment.

Murakami is humble, candid and straightforward exposing his mistakes, flaws and shortcomings - - one passage: "But this wretched story of feeling I had as I stood in front of the mirror at sixteen, listing all of my physical shortcomings, is still sort of touchstone for me even now. The sad spreadsheet of my life reveals how my debts outweigh my assets."

You get into his mind and his incredible determination to complete marathons and triathlons - feeling the sun baking his skin and the water filling his lungs - yet he keeps his feet and arms moving despite his mind and body telling him to stop.

You also learn about the impact that advancing middle age has on his performance times and that they are no longer improving despite a rigorous training regimen - "even if, seen from the outside, or from some higher vantage point, this short of life looks pointless or futile, or even extremely efficient, it doesn't bother me. Maybe it's a pointless act like as I've said before, pouring water into an old pan that has a hole in the bottom, but at least the effort you put into it remains. Whether it's good for anything or not, cool or totally uncool, in the final analysis what's most important is what you can't see but can feel in your heart."

The book is described by Murakami as a collection of essays he wrote between 2005 and 2007 and then pieced together and edited for this book. I felt that the book often read like a loosely edited diary - - in contrast to his visually beautiful, smooth, multi-layered, dreamy fictional works. While I found flashes of the profile of his prior novels in a few passages, I found this book to be choppy and informal in comparison.

Early on in the book, Murakami discusses his strategy in running a Jazz bar in Tokyo - he wasn't out "to please everybody" - "it didn't matter if 9 out of 10" didn't like his bar but that "if one in ten was a repeat customer" his business would survive. My sense is that this book will narrowly appeal to the "one in ten repeaters" of devoted Murakami's fans (me being one of them) - - readers who wish to learn more about his life, his experiences, what makes him "tick" - and more specifically, the role that running, biking, swimming and training for marathons and triathlons had on his writing and his life.

Most of us probably have had the unpleasant experience of being collared by a friend who is intent on sharing the details of some passion --- whether it's golf, stamp collecting or scuba diving --- about which we know little and care less. As a non-runner, I approached Haruki Murakami's memoir with some of the trepidation that attends those conversations. Instead I found a spritely, engaging story of one writer's quarter-century encounter with serious running and how that pursuit has threaded its way meaningfully through his life. Focusing in the main on the period from August 2005 through the New York City Marathon on November 6, 2005 (his 24th marathon since 1982), Murakami blends snippets of autobiography, descriptions of his running life and insights on the craft of writing into an entertaining mix.

Murakami, author of critically acclaimed and popular novels like THE WIND-UP BIRD CHRONICLE and KAFKA ON THE SHORE, started running at the age of 33, turning to it as casually as he apparently did writing ("One day, out of the blue, I wanted to write a novel. And one day, out of the blue, I started to run --- simply because I wanted to."). Refreshingly, he's no proselytizer for the sport, conceding that "I've tried my best never to say something like, Running is great. Everybody should try it. If some people have an interest in long-distance running, just leave them be, and they'll start running on their own."

Departing from the central time frame of the memoir (the origin of whose title should be readily known to fans of Raymond Carver, for whose work he confesses his admiration and which he has translated into Japanese), Murakami provides a lyrical account of his first "marathon," one that took him backwards on the original route, from Athens to Marathon (in fact, one mile shorter than the standard marathon distance of 26.2 miles) in the searing heat of a Greek summer. He describes his single ultramarathon (62 miles, completed in 11 hours and 42 minutes) in such grim detail as to make one question the sanity of anyone running such a race. While doing so, he brings to bear the novelist's keen eye for detail in describing the closing stretch of the race: "Evening had come on...and the air had a special clarity to it. I could also smell the deep grass of the beginning of summer. I saw a few foxes, too, gathered in a field. They looked at us runners curiously. Thick, meaningful clouds, like something out of a nineteenth century British landscape painting, covered the sky."

Murakami hasn't confined his athletic activities to long-distance running. In the 1990s he competed in his first triathlon. His account of the training to overcome the panic he experienced at the beginning of the swimming leg in an event in 2000, ultimately disqualifying him, is both candid and instructive. In the final triathlon described in the book, he makes gentle sport of how the Vaseline he applied to make his swimsuit easier to remove fogged his swimming goggles and how his shoelaces became untied during the running leg.

Although Murakami offers brief glimpses into the subjects that engage him and his view of the writing craft ("manual labor," as he describes it at one point), there's no strained effort here to draw parallels between his running and writing lives or to import cosmic lessons from one realm to the other. More by indirection, he hints at the ways in which similar qualities --- dogged persistence, attention to detail, a willingness to press on in a solitary way through extended periods of effort --- inform and enrich both pursuits.

Although he admits to something of a prickly nature, Murakami's tone throughout is self-effacing, even self-critical at times. He's a realist about the ravages of age: "Even when I grow old and feeble, when people warn me it's about time to throw in the towel, I won't care. As long as my body allows, I'll keep on running." And while he hopes to pursue his passions for many years, he has already decided he wants to be buried under a tombstone that reads, in part, "At Least He Never Walked."

Murakami's small memoir didn't inspire me to leap from my chair and lace up my Nikes, but you don't have to be a runner to enjoy this reflective book by one of Japan's most prominent contemporary novelists.

--- Reviewed by Harvey Freedenberg

Haruki Murakami offers an extended, albeit concise, meditation on distance running that is both introspective yet absorbing. Unpretentious and not self-absorbed, Murakami draws interesting parallels between the life of a distance runner and that of a writer, in his specific case, a novelist.

He also offers trenchant insights on the aches and pains of distance running, triathlon competitions and the lifestyle issues that confront those who pursue such pastimes. Murakami is not in any way attempting to proselytize and his understated style may win many converts nonetheless.

My sole quibble is his bias against walking in marathons. He wants his tombstone epitaph to read, "At least he never walked." Yet, I firmly believe that there is nothing shameful - either in a race, a training run or a life -- in stopping to walk. The point is not always the completing time, but the fact that one keeps moving forward, even at a walker's gait. Sometimes slowing down to a more measured pace is good.

Walk or run to get a copy of this book to read. If you consider yourself a runner or an endurance athlete - whether it's a journeyman or an elite competitor -- "What I Talk About:" is a genuine treat and may give you more to talk about, and think about!

To say that Haruki Murakami is a fantastic writer is to shed light on the obvious. Unfortunately, only two of Murakami's nonfiction books have been translated into English (Underground and What I Talk About When I Talk About Running), but what's been given to us has showed that Murakami's charms and talents transcend that found in the pages of his novels.

With What I Talk About When I Talk About Running (a great play on a Raymond Carver collection title), Murakami gives us a memoir that incorporates the theme of running into tales of aging, relationships, perception, drive, wisdom, and fear.

To non-runners, we see this theme as a means to an end, but it seems that runners are also taken by the familiar scenes that Murakami enters into the text.

The reason this writer in particular can draw in such a wide degree of readers is simply because he tends to have no overbearing agenda. Simply speaking on the issues and events that have struck him as important on a personal level, Murakami preaches nothing, he simply speaks. And when he speaks what he speaks, people tend to listen.

If you're not a Murakami fan, then this book may be a great introduction. Small in content but just as effective in its goals and performance as several other Murakami writings, What I Talk About When I Talk About Running is quite simply a great read.

I have not read any of Murakami's novels (this may change soon), but in his short stories he often employs subtle nostalgia for his characters' pasts. Often this nostalgia blurs the line with philosophy, and after reading What I Talk About When I Talk About Running, it became apparent why Murakami enjoys crafting his fiction this way: his style of writing mirrors his perspective on life. After traveling the world, training for and participating in marathons and triathlons, Murakami wants to share his runner's experiences and how they have molded him and his perspective on life. He presents us with a thought-provoking and entertaining narrative (some of it culled from journal entries and old magazines articles he wrote years ago, but most of it original stuff).

The book is 1/3 travelogue, 1/3 self-help, and 1/3 runners guide. We read about the running environments and typical weather patterns where Murakami has trained: New York, Boston, Japan, Greece. We read about the mental discipline and courage it takes to be a long-distance runner. But, most of all, subtly emerging on each page, we read about Murakami the philosopher. His favorite topic is the merciless and stubborn passage of time and its effects on the body and mind. He writes candidly about his thoughts on training as he grows older (Murakami was in his late 50s when he wrote much of the book). He writes about what he thinks about as he runs (ususally nothing); he writes about discipline. To paraphrase one of Murakami's favorite quotes (I forget the source): "...pain is inevitable; suffering is optional."

Murakami tells us that he was neither a natural novelist nor runner. He has had to work hard at both, but both are things which require a steady effort, skills with which Murakami prides himself. As we read along, we learn about Murakami's start as a novelist, his love for baseball, his strong character, and how he applied his strong character to defy his friends and relatives and open a restaurant, become a writer, and eventually, a marathon runner (even once running a 62-mile ultra-marathon). He had opened a restaurant before he became a writer, but one day, after the success of his first novel, he decided to close the restaurant and become a professional writer. It was at this time when he also decided to start running and quit smoking (in that order).

Although the chronology of the book might be a little out of order (the book is not structured chronologically), and this might throw a few more traditional readers, this wasn't a problem. The translation seemed genuine (although I can't read Japanese!), as the translator kept all of the little Murakami-isms one would expect: little phrases such as "...as I mentioned before," or little tangents into the second person. The style remains informal throughout.

Despite its ostensible subject matter (running), this is a book for everyone, because its real subject matter is not about running -- it's about how Murakami gathers meaning from life. Using a master's touch, he shows us how this meaning derives from his simple act of running each day. I, for one, became inspired.

You do not have to be a runner to be inspired by this little book. Murakami's memoir details his hard work, perseverance and dedication with regard to a certain craft, long-distance running, and the positive affect it has had on his life and writing. Murakami's lessons can applied in life no matter what your profession or passions may be. For myself, his dedication, hard work, focus, goal-setting and commitment to a quality life are all inspiring. Plus, this a very enjoyable, fun read.

I have placed this book atop my listmania group of literary running books. Haruki Murakami's marvelously entertaining WHAT I TALK ABOUT WHEN I TALK ABOUT RUNNING is about his running, yes, but it also touches on other interesting ideas, including the author's affinities for music, literature, and baseball, Japanese and American:

"As if to lament the defeat of the Boston Red Sox in the playoffs (they lost every game in a Sox vs. Sox series with Chicago), for ten days afterward a cold rain fell on New England. A long autumn rain. Sometimes it rained hard, sometimes softly; sometimes, it would let up for a time like an afterthought, but not once did it clear up."

"From beginning to end the sky was completely covered with the thick gray clouds particular to this region. Like a dawdling person, the rain lingered for a long time, then finally made up its mind to turn into a downpour. Towns from New Hampshire to Massachusetts suffered damage from the rain, and the main highway was cut off in places."

Murakami says he took the title of his book from the title of the Raymond Carver short story collection, WHAT I TALK ABOUT WHEN I TALK ABOUT LOVE, and thanks Carver's widow for giving him permission. Murakami has translated many of Carver's works into Japanese, as well as other American fiction. He says:

"One other project I'm involved in now is translating Scott Fitzgerald's THE GREAT GATSBY, and things are going well. I've finished the first draft and am revising the second. I'm taking my time, going over each line carefully, and as I do so the translation gets smoother and I'm better able to render Fitzgerald's prose into more natural Japanese."

"It's a little strange, perhaps, to make this claim at such a late date, but GATSBY really is an outstanding novel. I never get tired of it, no matter how many times I read it. It's the kind of literature that nourishes you as you read, and every time I do I'm struck by something new, and experience a fresh reaction to it. I find it amazing how such a young writer, only twenty-one at the time, could grasp--so insightfully, so equitably, and so warmly--the realities of life. How was this possible? The more I think about it, and the more I read the novel, the more mysterious it all is."

Music, baseball, literature, and running. My kind of writer. Runners looking for a similar read might want to try Don Kardong's THIRTY PHONE BOOTHS TO BOSTON. Readers new to Murakami who enjoyed this one might be inspired to try one of the author's many novels, and I highly recommend THE WIND-UP BIRD CHRONICLE.

I have not finished this book yet. I opened it up this morning, took it to the beauty salon to keep me company and to blot out the standard gossip going on around me. As I started reading it, I felt that he Haruki Murakami was speaking directly to me, soothing my soul, for I too write about running, and run alone, oftentimes in a void. This book put me in a pensive mood, making me introspective, and allowed me to say, "Hey, your struggles are okay. Your successes are to be measured by your own desires and standards, and your failures are to be expected. " Actually Haruki said this so well, that I just imagined I was saying this.
It's a book that has already made an impact on me after reading only a few chapters. As a writer, I was taken by the common themes we experience. Haruki says, "Emotional hurt is the price a person has to pay to be independent." I just discovered this author - have already put his book "Wild Sheep Chase" on my list as my next novel to read. I am just so curious. He says his readers loved this book but his editors were not too enthusiastic about it. Writers, artists, creators? Does this sound familiar? Who has not experienced this as a true person who follows his/her heart.