Those who run long are not freaks of nature. We are not a handful of chosen ones blessed with indefatigable muscle and indestructible cartilage. Nor do we have indomitable willpower that others lack. If anything sets us apart it is a kind of sensitivity. We can hear a faint chord vibrating on old and brittle strings. It begins to resonate through us when we rise predawn for a morning run. The sound builds the longer we stay at it. On a long run through the mountains our attention becomes focused, in tune, automatic. Each footfall and each breath synchronized with a primal tune. Ours is a re-creation of once necessary dispositions.
— Eric Grossman
Date: August 26, 2012
I’ve been running and reading Relentless Forward Progress by Bryon Powell (not simultaneously, mind you), and have taken on a pseudo-obsession with the topic as of late, so much so that I think I’m beginning to really bore my friends and family members with my incessant chatter of running, trails, hydration and nutrition strategies, body mechanics and physiology, spiritual journeys, and such. Anyway, this passage from the foreword by Eric Grossman struck me. I get it. I get it.