Running is a funny thing.
What other sport wears you out to re-energize you?
What
other activity convinces otherwise professional, respectable, or at
least somewhat civilized people to don extravagantly loud, ludicrously
expensive, and sometimes scandalously revealing gear to prance around
town?
What
other distraction can consume your entire being and yet leave you
speechless when asked about your thoughts while participating?
We
pour our all into this sport, beat ourselves up, break ourselves down,
and rebuild ourselves time and time again, but we almost paradoxically
struggle with an answer to the inevitable question of why we are so
engrossed.
That's what makes it great.
There is an allure to a departure from the confines of normalcy, a mystique to an inability to explain, a beauty in futility...
Be
it effort, luck, or providence, we have all found our way into this
funny thing, and at times we (or at least I) need to be reminded of how
truly resplendent it is.
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