There is no such thing as an average runner. We are all above average.
I run, therefore I am. And given the years improved fitness adds to our lives, if I did not run, maybe I would no longer be.
It is not so much that I began to run, but that I continued.
We all have bad days and bad workouts, when running gets ugly, when split times seem slow, when you wonder why you started. It will pass.
Putting miles in your training log is like putting money in the bank. You begin to draw interest on it immediately.
The most important day in any running program is rest. Rest days give your muscles time to recover so you can run again. Your muscles build in strength as you rest.
The difference between the mile and the marathon is the difference between burning your fingers with a match and being slowly roasted over hot coals.
What is the purpose of any one workout? Enjoyment? Improvement? Coach said so? Whatever, the hour you run often is the best hour of the day.
Some runners judge performance by whether they won or lost. Others define success or failure by how fast they ran. Only you can judge your performance. Avoid letting others sit in judgment of you.
I double-knot my shoe laces. It’s a pain untying your shoes afterward-particularly if you get them wet-but so is stopping in the middle of a race to tie them.
Running long offers a dress rehearsal. Running long teaches the stress of lifting feet 5,000 times per hour. Running long builds confidence.
Different people have different reasons for racing, but one is simply the incentive to get out and run, increase mileage and feel good.
The marathon never ceases to be a race of joy, a race of wonder.
Finish: Even if you run a slower than expected time, you succeed in any marathon when you finish.
Life is a series of hard and easy runs.
Each runner’s capacity to absorb hard training is different. Find your own unique level of comfort and success will be yours.
It can be said that the first half of the marathon is 20 miles long; the second half, 6.2 more.
I finished a marathon.
In the big city, if the man next door happens to be a slum landlord, a Mafia bag man, or a long distance runner, what does it matter, as long as he puts his garbage out on Tuesdays?
How would you describe the worst run you ever had? Precious!
I’d rather die smiling. And running makes me smile.