When you see me lacing into my Nikes, iPod discarded next to me on the porch, you squint and give me that oh another overachiever look: ‘Why do you run?’ It should be an easy question to answer, but it’s not. I started for the typical reasons. I didn’t want to get fat. Social approval. X does it, and I think X is pretty cool, so I’ll do it too.
But why you start running isn’t why you keep running, although the two trip into one another. Last week you could only run 4 minutes without feeling your lungs give out. This week you can run 10 uninterrupted. And then you run your first 10k, and then you can’t stop, because if you went from 10 minutes to 10 kilometres in a couple of months, how far could you go if you push further?
(Same thing we do every night, Pinky – try to take over the world!) Continue reading