Hello!

Howdy.

Greetings.

Guess we should get this bad boy started.

A year or two ago I started running regularly. I ran occasionally in high school though only for soccer. "Sedentary" would be an apt description of my adolescent, college, and young adult life. If nothing is chasing you and you are not in danger of missing the bus, I reasoned, why run at all?

I wish I could say that upon hearing some inspiring story, or having been moved by some tragedy, I put on a pair of shoes and have been running since. There is no good personal interest story behind why I run. I do it because it calms me and because I like spending time in my own head.

When I'm not running, I get cranky...I've also heard "fussy" and "colicky." So in that regard, I run because I have to. And that's maybe the best reason. If I skip a few days, something feels amiss.

Another reason I do it is for health. This one is relatively minor. I come from a family full of bad tickers and I worry about that more and more as I get older. So this reason will probably muscle its way to the top in the next decade or two.

My last reason I'll mention here is the one I tell people most often. I love to eat. When I finish a long run I figure I've burned enough calories to eat a second dinner. If I didn't run, you might be seeing me on Maury Povich. You would remember me, too. I'd be the guy they had to cut out of his house because he couldn't fit through the doors anymore.

With no great impetus behind my running, one might think I happen to be naturally gifted with a perfect stride or have received some rare genetic makeup that allows me to pile on the miles. Sadly, this is not the case either. Miles one and two are just as hard and eleven and twelve. My will to run is strong but I'm not some exceptional athlete. Masochistic, perhaps but even that in moderation. If running were easy, I probably wouldn't want to do it. If running were nearly impossible, I probably would have hung up my sneakers a long time ago.

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A year ago I started a running log. It was a simple gmail conversation with myself. Every time I finished a run I added an entry. Since I had no idea what I was doing, a lot of the entries dealt with the mysterious aches (runner's knee) and pains (plantar fasciitis) I felt. I wrote cautionary tales to myself about dressing for all sorts of weather, addressed the many frustrations and occasional exultations I felt, any missteps I took, puppies I saw.



I want people to see that there aren't two types of people, those who are in good enough shape to run and those who are not. Almost anyone can do it. I'm not doing anything incredible or superhuman by running five or ten miles. It's an addictive habit. I have it. I would like you to as well.

Admittedly, there is a selfish motivation for keeping up this blog. I'm not motivated solely by an impassioned calling to make a runner out of each of you. Writing here, and knowing that someone can see how often I get out will probably shame me into running more often.

Maybe I'll see you out there.