Running began as a simple gateway for confidence, solitude, and endorphins. Nobody in my circle of friends ran for just for the heck of it, for they didn’t have the desire or gumption. But I did—and it made me feel like a yellow tulip in a field of red roses. At the time, I didn’t own a watch and had no real conception of what a PR or a “fast”, “decent” or “slow” pace was. In those early 2000 days, before the birth of Garmin running watches and high-tech Ipods, the only noises I associated with running were the tap-tap-tapping of my feet, my breath, and the birds surrounding the fence of the middle school track. I didn’t know how long a marathon was, much less a 5k, 10k, or half-marathon.
Why do you run? What meanings does running have in your life?