I wasn’t a runner in high school or college, not because it didn’t come easy, I think I have always enjoyed the pain of running to some level. After the passing of my dad, 3 years ago this past October, I like many people search for new meanings to life. My meaning manifested itself through running. My father was always proud of everything I did. I suppose I wanted to start something completely new in my life that I could be proud of. After he passed, I found a doodle of the Road Runner (something he had always sketched throughout my childhood), and had it tattooed on my arm. I suppose unconsciously I saw this as new way to live, to keep moving, no matter how much it hurt. As for why I continue to run, that I am very unsure of. It has become a staple in my life. And without ever trying, I have become a mentor to friends who want to get into the sport. I am quick to downplay my knowledge and expertise however. Each person has a different well they must dig into every time they head out for a run. Fortunately, my nature is to be stubborn. I remind myself at the end of each run that it meant nothing unless I do it again tomorrow. In the end I think I run not because I want to, but because I need to.