by Kaitlyn Black

Created on: August 18, 2009

One afternoon in high school, I stared listlessly at the couch, noting that the me-shaped dent was expanding by the day. I sighed, brushed potato chip crumbs off the cushions, and decided that it might be time to do something about the increasingly large indenture. I flopped back down, loathing physical activity and knowing nary a thing about it.

My father encouraged the idea of running. "There's not much to it, Kait," he said, "honestly, all you do is put one foot in front of the other really fast." He paused. "Although, keeping track of where you're going so as not to get lost isn't such a disagreeable idea..."

I laughed. I have a terrible sense of direction. Sometimes I get lost going to work, even-most embarrassing.

My first run, however, wasn't long enough for me to get lost. I ran about a quarter-mile, dragged to a stop, doubled over, and gulped down air, certain that I was going to die. I plodded home at a pace that couldn't even be classified as a walk.

Something about it, though, got me back out the very next day. I made it perhaps three seconds longer before feeling like I was about to asphyxiate. Those three seconds felt like the greatest accomplishment of my life.

I was sixteen years old. By the time I was seventeen, I could easily run for an hour and scarcely break a sweat. When I reached the age of twenty, I could run for two. Every time I stopped in at the bookstore, I perused the magazine aisle for Runner's World magazine, and flipped through it over a cup of coffee. Often, I purchased it along with whatever books tickled my fancy. I could proudly tell folks that yes, I was a runner, and still am. I am, if I do say so myself, a decent one, too-and considering the memorable start I had, I'm pretty proud of that.

This brings us to the topic. Why should people run?

Running, to me, holds a lot more significance than a simple matter of weight loss and cardiovascular health. Running has a remarkable effect on the mind-every avid runner with whom I am familiar has maintained that a little thing called "runner's high" is hardly a myth. I agree with them. Some mornings find me so low as to barely feel capable of removing my lumpish carcass from bed, but following a good run outside, I have more positive energy than I know what to do with and am overflowing with bubbly cheer. I'm sure it goes without saying that I am, as a result, very productive at work and at home.

Here's a picture for you: Half-past six on a Saturday morning in mid-October,

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