[Published August 12th] On Running
How activity is a core part of community building for me
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Running has probably saved me more times than I can count.
I don’t mean that in the melodramatic millennial way. Nor do I mean that in the serious, self-harm way. Running saves me in the quiet, simple, everyday way that keeps me whole and in touch with myself and the natural world. When my mind is loud with stress or life feels too complicated, I put on my shoes and let my strides carry me somewhere simpler. It’s often the case that when I’m out for a run, weaving through traffic or trees, I remember who I am and what I want to do with my time.
Running gives me a sense of freedom that’s hard to replicate anywhere else. Sure, it’s great for personal fitness and keeping a healthy routine. But more than that, it serves as a reset button, and, sometimes, an escape to a place where I’m accountable to just one person: myself. It’s a rare space. My thoughts slow down, and my heart races. Problems untangle themselves. Questions become answers. New doors open. Anxious inaction fades to a confident clarity of purpose and drive.
I feel alive.
Most days, I head out the door without a set pace or destination, just a hope to work something through in my head or release myself from a mental doom loop I can’t seem to break. The first half mile often feels stiff and almost forgettable. But, somewhere around minute five or six, something clicks. My breath falls into rhythm, my thoughts smooth out, and I enter into something akin to “the zone,” like meditation in motion.
I return from my runs often feeling lighter and freer. Not always physically, of course (aging has a say in that), but mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. The grind of the day, the endless notifications, and the responsibilities all feel a little more manageable after just a few miles.
But running isn’t just a solitary act for me. It’s also a way I connect with other people in my community. One of the most meaningful ways I do that is through volunteering with Achilles International. Achilles pairs volunteer guides with athletes who have physical or neurological disabilities that limit their mobility in some way. We train together, guide each other through courses, and work toward shared goals. Sometimes it’s a big race, and sometimes it’s simply the joy of moving freely and making a friend. Helping someone navigate a route, matching their pace, or pushing through a challenging moment is very humbling and so deeply rewarding. I’ve been a guide for someone who was on their first run as a newly blind person, I’ve guided someone on a triathlon, and I’ve guided someone who ran 45 marathons before losing their ability to walk without the assistance of a cane. It’s a constant reminder that running isn’t only about personal bests or Strava stats, it’s about access, inclusion, empowerment, and freedom. Every time I volunteer, I leave feeling reminded of the simple but profound joy of movement.
My running community also comes together through more casual social engagements, like the Daytime Run Club, a local group that meets early in the mornings in Windsor Terrace and runs around Prospect Park. There’s something about finding that runner’s flow alongside a stranger that can bond you to them far faster than you anticipated. Week by week, friendships quickly build as topics range from our favorite breakfast spots to our families and the bigger life challenges we’re all navigating. These runs also aren’t about the miles; they’re about shared time and space, letting someone into my sanctuary-like space and hearing their story.
Of course, all of this running, whether solo, with a group, with my partner Em, or with our dog Rosie, relies on one small but essential thing: my shoes. Over the years, I’ve tried nearly every brand on the market (Nike, Adidas, Hoka, Asics, On — you name it). Most of them worked just fine. But, for the past two years, I’ve been going steady with On Running’s Cyclon subscription, and it’s been perfect. For $30 a month, I get a high-performance, fully recyclable pair of running shoes delivered to my apartment every three months. Once I send On back the old pair, the clock starts again, and I’ll receive a new pair in 90 days. The model aligns perfectly with my values around running: purposeful movement, sustainability, and mindfulness.
It also matches my reality. I run about three miles a day, with an extra three to four on the days I volunteer with Achilles. In total, it’s nearly 300 miles on every pair. That kind of wear and tear takes a toll on shoes, especially in summer. Knowing I’ll get a fresh, ready-to-run pair right when I need it removes the constant guesswork and lengthy shopping trips, and simplifies my focus on the right stuff for me: the joy of running.
And yes, I’ll admit, getting that new box in the mail feels a little like unwrapping a present to myself still.
Running has become more than a habit for me. It’s a part of who I am. It’s what I turn to for clarity, for connection, and for the chance to feel like I’m contributing to something bigger than myself. Whether I’m alone in the quiet dawn, jogging around with our dog Rosie, or guiding an Achilles athlete through the park, I’m reminded of the simple beauty and clarity that come to me from movement.
So why do I run?
To breathe easier.
To think more clearly.
To give back. And,
To keep running.
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