Running isn’t, necessarily, the starting point. More often than not, it feels like a destination in and of itself.

Too often, we sit behind our desks pushing numbers and shifting paper from one pile to the next. We approach projects in stages. “To do,” doing,”done” (or, the dreaded, “someday, ” i.e., “won’t get done.” We sit on our couches to unwind.

So we end up tracking everything on a phone or with a wearable device. Fitbits. Vivofits. Jawbones. Smart watches. We feel a little buzz or see a little red line and think, “Time to move.” And it works for a while. We sync our data. We look at our stats. We compete with friends or coworkers (or strangers).

For a few weeks, we start thinking, “Ok. I’ve got this.” We consider our next steps. Maybe download a Couch to 5k program or join a gym.

And then, somewhere along the line, we give up and slip back into our old routines. We don’t schedule a workout. Or we do but choose to ignore it for a night out with friends or a special dinner with our partners or an afternoon movie.

We keep thinking that tomorrow is a new chance to start over – and it is. But what if tomorrow could be something more? What if every tomorrow were a chance to be better than we are today? I’m not talking huge changes, either.

I’m thinking things like:

• “What if tomorrow, instead of 5,000 steps, I could take 5,100 – or even 5,001?”
• “What if tomorrow, instead of taking the elevator, I took the stairs?”

Sure, these are everyday sorts of things. And more than that, yes, there are reasons why some people may not be able to take those steps or make that effort.

But I can.

Four years ago, I had asthma and had trouble breathing. I had some other things going on, too, and I didn’t leave the house except when I had to – like to go to work. Three years ago, I had surgery and post-recovery I had the chance to make some bigger changes. I took up cycling – 50-mile rides, 100-mile rides. Breathing started to come a bit easier; I could do more.

And then winter came. And then I started running.

And that’s when I realized that running was changing me. Sure, my body changed some – but weight loss wasn’t my thing. My mood was better than it had been. My motivation was more consistent than it was. I slept better than I had.

I started to look forward to getting out there more.

And then I started to forge closer friendships. And then I competed in races. And I started to travel for events.

And that’s when I realized that running isn’t just exercise or a way of life. Running isn’t a cliche. Running is a vehicle. I may not have the flying cars promised to me as a kid, but I have everything I need.

Running takes me to a place where I can forge deeper relationships than any I’ve ever shored up at a bar. Running lets me see the quiet places in a new town and the people who make a place amazing. Running gives me a chance to reflect on who I am and who I want to be. And running gives me the tools I need to move beyond my weaknesses and try to turn them into strengths.

Sure, the ultimate “ride” that running gives me is the chance to be a better me. But it also gives me more.

Destination races let me see the world. Longer runs give me a chance to see that there are far fewer limits than I believe there are. Relationships with fellow runners show me how possible it is to make deep connections. To encourage. To laugh through the pain. To come out stronger.

Running takes me to a place where I’m a better person. Not because it makes me better, but because it makes me want to be better. It gives me time to think, to dream, to imagine – and to push beyond my limits.

Running takes me on a journey – one that I’m honored to share with you. Which brings me to this: Where will running take you?