There are three kinds of runners:
- I’ve-got-to-get-away runners. They take massive strides, covering ground like a charging rhino; running like they’re a) going somewhere, b) getting away from something, or c) trying to forget life. Their lungs might explode mid-run, but they won’t notice.
- I’m-doing-this-for-the-cardio runners. This seems to be the largest group, not in it for the adrenaline or the high; it’s for the exercise. The woman and her look of misery, the heavyset man on a slow jog with sparkling clean running shoes that look like they’ve never been worn.
- I-love-this runners. A conundrum to the rest of us. They run for the sheer pleasure; not because they need the exercise, not because they need the freedom. They enjoy it.
Every runner fits somehow into one (or maybe all three) of these groups. However, after years and years of running, usually the members of the first and second group become members of the third. Many people who start running because they must keep running because they want.
The same could be said about writing. Some write with fervor and passion, pounding it out to cope. Others write because they have to, because it’s an assignment or a deadline or a letter to Great Aunt Mabel. But a few write for the love of writing. They write because they know the feeling of having written; the euphoria of seeing their words on a page, and knowing them to be not only okay—but good.
Even if running (writing) is mere drudgery, keep at it. It’s healthy, good for your body (brain), and keeps you flexible. And, after all, there’s a slight chance that before forever happens, you’ll enjoy it.