The danger of running

"I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived."

- Henry David Thoreau

I was not a runner in school. I learned the danger of running later when I already had hardened habits and constricted thinking. The many physical hazards of running are well known: drivers who accelerate right into you without looking, snow hiding a sloped shoulder edge so that one misstep sends you crashing to the ground, a crowded race where it's easy to fall off an unseen curb tearing muscle and skin. But the real danger is more subtle:

• Run one mile without stopping.
• You can probably run two miles, and you do.
• You run four miles. Most people tell you they can't imagine running so far.
• Run ten miles then do it again but faster. If you can run ten miles what else can you do?
• Run a half marathon. If you did that, who knows what your limit is?
• You believe you can run a half marathon. It takes work but you do it.
• You know you can do a marathon so you do.

This is the true danger of running. Because soon your life isn't framed by the words, "I can't do that." Instead it unfurls before you like an open road, or path, or trail, and you think, "What can't I do?" Open the door and go out; I've learned it's always a good day for a run.

For Sarah, who started me running. Racing in Kenya.
Photo copyright 2010 Mary Crockett.