Why do I run,
you ask?
Some reasons …
Because the
gentle movement of a long, long effort feeds my soul.
Because sleep is
a crutch.
Because of the
thunderous quietude.
Because of the
laughter of friends old and new.
Because if I go
long enough, my place in the world always seems satisfying.
Because I get to
take myself to places in my mind that I likely never would have gone otherwise.
Because I can.
Because I eat
and drink whatever I want, and I weigh just 2 pounds more than I did when I
graduated from college 30 years ago.
Because of the
special experience that is generated by the sounds of a waking day.
Because of that silky
sweet feeling at run’s end.
Because trail
miles make special people even more special.
Because some
days, moments on the run are the best ones of the day.
Because I've been doing this for 37 years, and it is still my favorite art form.
Because
sometimes – to steal a favorite line from my eloquent pal Fred Dummar – I love kicking my own ass.
And because
there have been times – a star-lit sky, a stunning sunrise, that moment just after I poke a hole in the attic of The Pain Cave – when I’m pretty sure that I see the
face of God.
2 comments:
Beautifully said, B.
You nailed it.
Very very well said. I was thinking about this this morning. I was running down Bear Mountain after mostly hiking up it and I thought, this, this is why I run. Because unless you are an endurance athlete, so much of this goes unseen. I run because it allows me to see the beauty in the world around me.
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