Why I run.

I remember in Kindergarten running around like a crazy man.  Yelling, screaming having a great time.  I then remember going to the doctor and being told I had some disease (Leggs-Perthes) in my hips.  I was admitted to the hospital and my legs were put in traction.  5 years old.  I could no longer walk.  The hospital bed contained me for two weeks.  It was there I learned to whistle.  Apparently I pushed the call button too many times.  Unfortunately, the only whistle I knew was the cat-call; probably taught to me by my brothers.  So, when a nurse would walk by, I would whistle a cat-call.  She would come in and I would ask for ice cream.  Never mind that it was only 6 am. A cast from navel to my feet was the next treatment.  I think that lasted for 6 weeks.  Then, a wheelchair.  A wheelchair.  That lasted for the next 5 years.  Not until the middle of 4th grade was I able to get up and use those legs to run around and act crazy.  Not until I was ten years old was I able to ride a bike, go out for a pass, play hide and seek effectively (hiding is tough when you're in a wheelchair) run from my siblings, or simply run because I could. What a glorious day.  I remember the day my dad came home from work and knelt at one end of the hallway.  I got up out of my chair and walked towards him; into his arms.

Why do I run?  Because I can.  Running is a gift.  When we lose something valuable we have feeling of regret.  We wish we would have had more time with a loved one or not taken a friendship or relationship for granted.  I have been told by some doctors to not run.  And I quote "Your running days are over."  Never!  My running days have just began.  I had lost my ability to run.  I value every moment I can walk, every time I can run and every opportunity to run around like a crazy man.
Keep Running!
Steve