You’ve got to be a little bit crazy to get dressed, go outside, and just start running. There’s nothing chasing you, no specific destination you are rushing towards. You’re just running. Outside. In the heat. Covered in sweat. Gasping for breath. Your body demanding a break. Yet something within you pushes one foot in front of the other, a persistence that carries you along, a momentum and a movement that you find yourself swept up in, equal parts ecstasy and agony.
And then you realize that this isn’t just about running. This is about living, joining a movement for love and justice; beautiful are the feet that bring the good news of peace.
Is this crazy? Perhaps. But I don’t want to live any other way.
- In your own words, why do people go running?
- When was a time that you felt “equal parts ecstasy and agony?”