At 77 years old, I’m often asked what my secret is. People look for a specific supplement, a magical pair of running shoes, or a rigid training schedule, but the truth is far more profound. The secret isn’t something I put into my body; it is how I communicate with it.

I have always been fascinated by Deepak Chopra’s concept of the “quantum body.” While academics argue over the physics behind it, I have spent decades — and specifically the last seven years — testing this philosophy on the pavement and documenting the results in my book on human resilience. Chopra suggests intelligence is not locked away in the skull. Instead, every cell, every tissue, and every joint possesses its own localized “mind.” When we tap into our “big mind” — our overarching conscious awareness — we can activate these smaller minds to trigger healing, maintain balance, and avoid injury before it even happens.

For those unfamiliar with the “big mind” phrase, I am also an admirer of Shunryu Suzuki’s Zen Mind, Beginner’s Mind, where he explains that the “big mind” experiences everything within itself, contrasting it with the “small mind,” which is focused only on itself. To some, this may sound like mysticism. To a runner who has survived decades of impact on different parts of their body, it is pure logistics.

In my own training, I don’t view my body as a machine to be beaten into submission; I view it as a network of partners. Long before I knew there was a formal term for it, I practiced deliberate somatic monitoring. “Somatic” simply means relating to the body. Every morning, and during every mile, I check in. I talk to my left knee — the one that remembers a twist from a few years ago — and listen to my right Achilles tendon, recalling the specific patterns of how these areas behaved in the past.

This isn’t just passive listening; it is active preparation. By keeping tabs on these high-risk zones, my big mind maps out a predictive blueprint. If a minor tightness flares up at mile four, I don’t panic. My central awareness has already communicated with that localized area, and we have a plan. I adjust my stride by a millimeter, shift my weight, or alter my pacing. We avoid the unthinkable because we are already talking about it.

In practice, this requires learning to distinguish between different types of pain. Over my many years of running, I have learned to recognize “good pain,” such as normal inflammation from a hard workout. I have also learned to recognize what I call “warning sign pain,” which indicates trouble ahead if I don’t quickly make a change. Warning sign pain often starts as just a small discomfort in an area of my body where I have had past problems. If I don’t make a change quickly, I am at risk of a more serious problem.

Responding to these warning sign pains requires knowing your body’s specific, unique past patterns. My personal trouble spots tend to repeat in predictable ways. For instance, my curved spine tends to cause recurring lower back pain. When I sense even a small discomfort in my lower back while running, I immediately alter my posture by pulling my head back, which tends to reduce the pressure. When I sense even a small discomfort in either of my knees, I make a quick change in my stride length or cadence.

Conventional wisdom suggests a runner should slow down at the first sign of trouble, but my experience has proven this is not always true. As an example, I have found through experience that sometimes picking up the pace for a short period helps to stretch the tissues around the knee and fend off one of my common trouble spots. I also know that most of my knee pain originates elsewhere, traceable to a condition known as lumbar radiculopathy. X-rays and specialist visits have confirmed that the true source is actually in my lower back.

I have also learned through years of running that I have a tendency to forget past patterns. Therefore, I force myself to log daily notes. Simply logging these entries is not enough, however; I review them regularly to compare historical data with my current physical state. This discipline is essential because our bodies and the environment around us constantly change. This practice helps me stay in tune with the parts of my body most in need of monitoring at any moment in time.

I vividly recall the 2024 Scranton Half Marathon, a story I share in my book, Human Resilience: Keep Running Your Life. At mile eight, my left knee tightened into what felt like a severe cramp. When I modified my stride, the pain subsided, only to return a few minutes later. Over the next few miles, I stopped multiple times to stretch, but each time the tightness returned. While I considered dropping out, the feedback my brain was receiving from my knee told me this wasn’t a new injury, nor was continuing to run making it worse. Recognizing this familiar pattern gave me the confidence that I wasn’t causing serious damage.

That day, I made a deliberate choice to keep running, ultimately picking up the pace to finish the race. It turned out, as I suspected, this was an old issue that required working through with my foam roller to resolve after the race. My decision to keep running that day led to no long-term negative consequences.

This is not intended to say I am unaware of the potential risks when one of my trouble spots starts talking to me. Whenever I deal with knee pain, I think of running friends whose joint issues permanently ended their running careers. I know these stories are true, and I know that such a breakdown of my body parts could end my running life. But I also know that the human body wants to get better. With just the right help from the brain at just the right time, it can overcome the most daunting obstacles. I have proven this in my own running experiences again and again.

Furthermore, and equally important, I recognize that as I age, refusing to take calculated physical risks is certain to lead to performance decline due to sarcopenia, or age-related muscle loss. Whenever — and especially over the last seven years — I have reduced my training and racing with the intent of reducing risk, it has led to a significant loss of endurance and performance.

There is no perfect answer to avoiding injury while at the same time staying healthy and at peak performance. Ultimately, this philosophy is about heightening awareness of your personal vulnerabilities, preparing to take rapid, mitigating action, and accepting calculated risks to achieve your goals. Resilience isn’t about blindly pushing through pain; it is about cultivating an internal dialogue so sharp that discomfort is negotiated away before it ever sidelines you.

The Quantum Stride: Awakening the Body’s Localized Intelligence was originally published in Runner's Life on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Want to write for Runner’s Life? See our call for submissions.

Welcome to the Runner’s Life newsletter!

If you’ve missed previous Runner’s Life newsletters, you can find the archive here.

Below are the most recent editions of Brady Holmer’s weekly newsletter, Run Long, Run Healthy, where he publishes short summaries and links to the Internet’s most recent and scientific reviews of running information, so you can learn how to be better at running.

Can Runners Survive on 10 Grams of Carbs Per Hour?

Can Carbs Make You More Durable?

When Do More Carbs Stop Helping?

Why Fit Runners Can Still Have Coronary Plaque

Previous editions of Run Long, Run Healthy newsletters are here.

Featured Story

Following China’s Long March: Wumeng Mountain 330k Trail by Harriet Gaywood

Trail Inspiration: China’s Long March (1934–35)

In China, the Long March (October 1934 — October 1935) was a historic journey of 12,500 kilometers and is often viewed as one of the most defining episodes in the history of the Chinese Communist Party. Surrounded by the Nationalist Army of Chiang Kai-shek, some 80,000 soldiers of the Red Army escaped and headed north from Jiangxi in the south. Only 8,000 to 9,000 survived the trek, which ended in the establishment of a new Communist base in Yan’an.

The Long March thus became a key event in Chinese revolutionary mythology and remains a metaphor for the revolution itself. It also played a decisive role in the rise of Mao Zedong. His military and political leadership during the retreat strengthened his position within the Communist Party. However, the troops endured extreme weather, difficult terrain, food shortages, disease, and repeated military engagements.

“The Red Army fears not the trials of the Long March,
Holding light ten thousand crags and torrents.
The Five Ridges wind like gentle ripples
And the majestic Wumeng roll by, globules of clay.
Warm the steep cliffs lapped by the waters of Golden Sand,
Cold the iron chains spanning the Dadu River.
Minshan’s thousand li* of snow joyously crossed,
The three Armies march on, each face glowing.”

Mao Zedong — October 1935

The 2026 Wumeng Mountain 330k Trail Race

Ninety years on, China’s National Day seemed like a timely occasion to join the Wumeng Mountain 330k Trail Race with 16,500m total elevation, which would follow part of the Long March routes starting from Zhaotong. This predominantly Muslim town sits at 2,000m in northeast Yunnan Province, between the borders of Guizhou and Sichuan provinces.

I signed up for the Wumeng Mountain 330k as a personal challenge, envisaging myself doing my usual run, walk, rest, and repeat routine at my own pace. A couple of weeks before the race, I reread the details and saw we would be in teams. In a panic, I sent a message to the organizer saying that I didn’t have a team (I seem to be lacking friends who want to run 330k with me). He assured me not to worry — we would simply move as a group, running 60–70k per day. The prospect of running as a group filled me with dread — with no idea of their speed, I didn’t want to be responsible for holding people over this kind of distance.

Read more.

Stories

Monday, October 5

Zen and the Art of Meditating While We Run by Mike Kirby

Age (De)Grading: Why Do I Continue To Run? by Craig Helmstetter

Thursday, October 8

Can Runners Survive on 10 Grams of Carbs Per Hour? by Brady Holmer

Saturday, October 10

What Changed When I Swapped Running for Jiu-Jitsu by Anastasiia Ku

Following China’s Long March: Wumeng Mountain 330k Trail by Harriet Gaywood

Monday, October 12

How a Defective Scale Reading Made Me Panic by Ryan Fan

Tuesday, October 13

How a Superfood Helped Runners Go 32% Longer and May Outpace Baking Soda by Leila Drouby, Nutritionist

Thursday, October 15

Can Carbs Make You More Durable? by Brady Holmer

Saturday, October 17

I Tracked HRV for 3 Weeks — Here’s What It Says About My Fitness and Health by Agnese Zimele

Fitness Apps and the Hidden Security Risks by Vivek Maurya

Sunday, October 18

20 — The Season That Went Without Me by Adam Dipinto

Monday, October 19

Why and How I Keep Running Past 77 Years Old With Heart Disease by Paul E McMahon

Thursday, October 22

When Do More Carbs Stop Helping? by Brady Holmer

Thursday, October 29

Why Fit Runners Can Still Have Coronary Plaque by Brady Holmer

As a participant in the Editor Partner Program, Runner’s Life is open to submissions from all writers. Stories must still meet the requirements. We are looking for writers who want to publish strong, meaningful work regularly. To submit, follow these instructions.

Runner’s Life Newsletter was originally published in Runner's Life on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

I’m 77 years old and have run competitive half marathons every 3–4 weeks since I turned 70. I also have an on-demand pacemaker that was implanted when I was 71, an artificial heart valve implanted and a bypass at 67, two ablations for atrial fibrillation (AFIB) at 68 and 69, and a cardioversion for AFLUTTER at 74. On top of all this, I have a curved spine and frequently suffer from pinched nerves in my back, with pain running down both of my legs.

You might be tempted to ask why I keep running. A more interesting question might be how I keep running. Let me try to answer both.

First, it takes time to learn to run with a pacemaker. Shortly after my pacemaker was implanted, I figured out that by taking exaggerated deep breaths and increasing the length of my arm swing, it seemed to open up my lungs, improving my breathing and running performance. I thought when I discovered this technique that I was kick-starting my pacemaker.

Over the next few years, I was able to regain a significant amount of racing performance, leading to improved half-marathon times. Despite these positive results, there is no denying the fact that once you pass 70 years old, maintaining racing speed and endurance becomes increasingly challenging.

One reason for this is accelerated sarcopenia, or age-related muscle loss. When I was in my 30s and 40s, the only exercise I did was running. Today, to compensate for sarcopenia, I have added upper-body strength training to my weekly routine, but that is not the only change I have made as I age.

Recently, I also discovered that throwing in short spurts of power-walking in the middle of my runs has allowed me to maintain an overall faster pace. When I was younger, I never believed this strategy would work. I always thought that anyone would get to the finish line faster by running the full race at whatever pace was required to actually run the full race. But in the fall of 2025, at 76 years old, while running a half marathon in upstate New York, I fell behind a group I was running with. When I started taking short power-walk spurts, I was able to recover and not only catch the group, but pass them. That day, I ran my fastest mile of the day in mile 13.

This caused me to re-think what was actually happening with my body as I aged, and specifically what was happening when I took those exaggerated deep breaths and increased my arm swing. When I asked my electrophysiologist (a cardiologist who specializes in heart rhythm issues) about this a few years earlier, he said that he understood why the exaggerated deep breaths could help me feel better, as that could trigger the on-demand pacemaker. But he had no idea what could be going on with the increased arm swing.

This discussion with my electrophysiologist occurred shortly after my pacemaker was implanted, and for the next few years I didn’t think a great deal about it until, at 77 years old in the spring of 2026, I went to physical therapy for two new issues.

The first, and the one I was most concerned about, was what I thought at the time was a hamstring strain. The other was a pain in my neck that was restricting my ability to turn my head in both directions. The pain in my neck was something that had been coming on over the previous few months and was most likely, I thought at the time, due to years of sitting at my work desk looking down at my computer screen. This problem, I felt, was more of a nuisance and less important than the hamstring strain since I didn’t think at the time it had any real effect on my running.

However, I noticed one exercise my physical therapist gave me for the neck, which he referred to as a “chin tuck,” seemed to not only relieve my neck pain but also had a similar positive effect on my running as my exaggerated deep breathing and increased arm swing did. Now, I was becoming even more curious as to what was really going on with my body when conducting both the “chin tuck” and the increased arm swing.

This led me to a new theory, and to validate my theory, I investigated and found that according to biomechanical research on forward head posture, dropping your head forward forces your upper back to round and compresses the chest cavity. This restricts the lungs and diaphragm from fully expanding.

I now believe that my forward head posture has been causing inefficiencies in my breathing while running. Improving my posture through chin tucks is not only relieving my neck pressure but also enhancing my respiratory mechanics and running performance.

As a result, today I am now more aware of my breathing and my head position as I run. When I feel tension in my neck, it is a signal to me to slow down and transition to a short power-walk to reduce neck tension and aid my breathing before switching back to my running form.

I have also figured out that when I power-walk, I naturally go into a better form where my head doesn’t jut forward and my breathing is eased. I now believe that when I increase my arm swing, I also pull my head back naturally into a better position, and that is why it helps my breathing. At 77 years old, I am still learning new techniques to keep me running longer and stronger. This addresses the question of how.

As for the why, I answer that question in the Epilogue to my book, “Human Resilience: Keep Running Your Life,” where I say,

“One of my life lessons in this book reminds us we need to believe whatever we set out to do is possible. But knowing there is a possibility of falling short is also essential to maintain my motivation and it sits at the heart of the why. It is the not knowing that makes the journey fascinating and provides the extra boost of energy to keep me going when every other part of my body is telling me to stop. The answer to the question why is found in uncertainty, the will to overcome whatever unexpected adversity is thrown my way, and the knowing that each time I do it could be the last.”

Why and How I Keep Running Past 77 Years Old With Heart Disease was originally published in Runner's Life on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.