Why do I run? It’s a miserable, uncomfortable thing. I’m pretty terrible at it and get little satisfaction from the actual act of running. I can walk forever, but as soon as I accelerate to a trot every member of the Board of Directors of my body launches into fits of rage and protest that puts the Boston Tea Party to shame. My mind is the worst culprit. It wants no part of cardiovascular exercise so it immediately pulls out the Playbook of Doubts and gets to work.

The battle is the reason why I run though. There is no one on this planet who is a bigger obstacle to me than myself. I am absolutely my own worst enemy. My mind is insidious. It knows all my weak points and what to think to get me to doubt myself. It gets me to question why I am doing the things I am doing and to want to give up. To not face the difficult things in life. When I run my inner monologue is a cacophony of doubt, hesitation, skepticism and mistrust so perfectly discordant that it could have been ghost-composed by Bach.

For every reason or inspirational thing I think of to get me to keep going, my brain has an answer for why I should stop. My whole body joins in the routine. My lungs betray me and my thoughts begin to align with every ragged breath. Just … STOP … it’s … HARD … knee … HURTS … why … PRETEND … isn’t … YOU … notta … RUNNER … they’re … FASTER … you … CAN’T … Every step becomes a contest of wills to see who will quit first, me or myself.

Right when the noise inside my head becomes nearly deafening, I hear it … ching … step … ching … step … ching … step. The sound of my keys in my pocket jingling with each step I take cuts through the nonsense. The whole Board stops the parade of uncertainty it’s been marching through my thoughts and all is silent except for … ching … step … ching … step. My body knew the answer all along. One step at a time, keep moving forward, one foot in front of the other. My body is proving my mind wrong with every step I take. Through all the madness it just kept going. Things are put into perspective and the Board slinks away having been humbled.

I run for those moments of clarity that help lay a bedrock of confidence that carries over to other things I do. Every time I start to waver, I remember those moments on the road going up a hill when I didn’t listen to the voice and kept going. I prove to myself every time I finish a run that I can’t give in to the doubts. I trust that I will find the way to wherever I’m going, it’s just a matter of putting one foot in front of the other long enough to get there.