This book is more of a memoir than a treatise on running itself. Murakami writes in segments, almost like journal entries, over the course of a year which he spends in Boston, Hawaii, Japan, and other far-flung locations. Running is a core part of his life–something he has done daily for decades–and he believes ties directly into his work as an author. He writes eloquently about running itself, the fraternity of runners, and the life of a writer in general.

I like Murakami’s writing as he can make the mundane interesting. Like his other books, I feel a remove from real emotions in his work. He barely mentions his wife or meaningful interactions with others over the course of the year. I’d like to hear more about both but perhaps that’s just his personality or related to Japanese culture itself.

Either way, this was a fun book that I enjoyed but didn’t treat too seriously. It can be read in a few sittings and if you like running, as I do, it’s fun to peak into the mind of a good writer talking about the act itself.